


Failed Shot! Jigen

by Luck_Kazajian



Category: Lupin III
Genre: But arrest is still on the table, Friendship, Fujiko tries to help, Gen, Goemon is a rock, Heists and Hi-Jinks, Jigen Falls Apart, Lupin Has a Plan...Sort of, Nobody knows what to do when Jigen looks at them that way, Team, The sharpshooter misses, Zenigata agrees to help out of the goodness of his heart, red jacket
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-05
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-06-29 02:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 47,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19820314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luck_Kazajian/pseuds/Luck_Kazajian
Summary: To Be Read in Lupin's Voice: "In the middle of a chaotic escape, Jigen shoots -- and misses! I take the fall for it and Jigen’s confidence is shot. He’s never missed at a critical moment before. I don't blame him for it but Jigen won’t touch his gun. What am I supposed to do without my right-hand man? Can Goemon, Fujiko and I pull Jigen back together and get a gun in his hands again? And what does Pops have to do with any of this? Read on to find out in the next exciting chapter of my adventures -- Failed Shot! Jigen."





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Hi Lupin III friends! I've recently jumped on the Lupin bandwagon (late much?) and I've been exploring the fandoms online to see what exists. I've found some great stuff, so I figured I'd add to the menagerie :) Hope you enjoy!  
> The title of this story is based on some of the episode names from Red Jacket (which is what I'm currently watching)  
> Maybe the characters are a bit OOC? Is that possible for a series with as little continuity as Lupin III? Anyway, prepare yourself for more angst than I initially planned, a lot of friendship, and some high stakes action!

Back against the low stone wall behind him, Jigen cracked his magnum open. He tipped his hat back and met Lupin’s eye over the open piece. There was one bullet left, gold case vibrant against the cool grey of the revolver. Lupin held his gaze for a second longer than strictly necessary, then gave Jigen his trademark smirk. Jigen nodded and snapped his gun back together. 

Overhead, the steady _whump, whump_ of an approaching helicopter grew louder.

Crouched low, Lupin shrugged out of his jacket and grabbed a nearby stick off the ground. He put the jacket on the stick and held it up over the edge of the wall. A hail of bullets shredded the red jacket. Lupin went a little pale, but he kept that grin plastered on his face. Jigen sighed. This situation was all too common in their line of work.

And the problem was, Lupin loved it.

Loved challenging men and women who wanted his head on a platter. Loved the thrill, loved the adrenaline rush, loved the chase. But most of all, he loved the escape. Because Lupin always escaped. 

So why couldn’t Jigen shake the pit of dread in his stomach?

Maybe because they hadn’t been in a spot this tight in a while. Lupin’s gun was gone, lost somewhere in the chaos. Jigen was down to one bullet. He and Lupin were pinned behind a crumbling stone wall that wasn’t going to stand up to any type of real blast (thank the powers that be Exo’s gang didn’t have a tank). Fujiko was taking her sweet time getting that rescue copter in position and Goemon --

Jigen ducked lower as a bullet whizzed overhead, nearly taking his hat with it. He shoved his hat more firmly onto his head, fingers slipping through a new bullet hole, and flattened himself in the dust.

“Where’s Goemon?” Jigen asked, scanning the sky for the helicopter. Fujiko was almost in position now.

Lupin shrugged. “He’ll be here,” he said. Confident. Like always. 

“He better be,” Jigen growled. “We’re running out of options.” 

“Since when have we ever had options, Jigen?” Lupin chuckled. 

Jigen couldn’t stop the twitch at the corner of his mouth that wanted so desperately to be a smile. Because it was hard to be bleak when Lupin was cracking jokes and grinning like a lunatic at your side. If Lupin still had hope, then the situation was far from hopeless.

Besides, aside from himself, Goemon was the most reliable member of the team. The samurai snuck off a few minutes ago to circle around behind Exo’s gang so that he could take them by surprise and give the team enough time to get to the helicopter. Jigen looked down at his Rolex. Five minutes. Five minutes since Jigen wasted a hell of a lot of bullets to give Goemon cover to sneak away. Five damn minutes.

He thought he’d have seen the deadly flash of Zantetsuken by now. Exo’s gang was getting bolder, pulling together after Jigen’s deadly hail, sticking heads and gun arms out of cover now that he wasn’t returning fire. Where was that samurai?

“Jigen, you ready?” 

There was that damn grin again, Lupin’s navy blue shirt stark against the stone wall, that familiar light in his eyes when he was at the top of his game.

“I got one bullet, Lupin,” Jigen said. And all that implied. Whatever that meant. Lupin nodded sagely. 

“That’s all you need.” Then he winked. 

Jigen pulled himself to his knees. 

“Go!” Lupin shouted. 

The first of the gangsters fell with a scream, a flash of silver, and an arc of crimson. Chaos reigned. The helicopter swooped low -- so low Jigen had to hold onto his hat to keep it from blowing away. Lupin was a blur of navy and white, leaping to the top of the wall as a rope ladder came down from the helicopter. Jigen’s heart leapt into his throat, but no bullets flew. Not while Zantetsuken sang.

“Get down, you fool!” Jigen shouted over the heavy thud of the copter blades. 

Lupin flashed him a grin and did a little dance on top of the wall. 

Jigen scowled and jumped to his feet, eyes on the gangsters, magnum steady in his hands. One bullet. One. His eyes roved the field. One chance to keep Lupin’s cocky ass alive. 

_Breathe, Jigen. You’re a sharpshooter. It’s what you do. You don’t miss._

Jigen allowed himself a smirk. 

Because he never missed. 

“Jigen!” 

Jigen spared a glance up to see Lupin grabbing the rope ladder, already four rungs up, waving for him to follow. 

And still, no bullets. He could just barely hear Goemon’s shouts of triumph over the wind whipped up by the helicopter. 

“Lupin! Jigen! Hurry up!” Fujiko shouted from above.

As if they needed the reminder. 

Jigen spared one last glance at the field of chaos below, then grabbed the ladder and started up. It was slower going with his magnum in one hand, but there was no way he was putting the gun away. Above him, Lupin scampered up the ladder, cackling and sticking his tongue out at the gangsters below. Jigen stopped and slung one arm through the rope rungs to steady himself so he could take aim at anyone who decided to retaliate. 

The ladder swayed as Fujiko flew the helicopter forward to reach Goemon. 

Lupin yelped in surprise and gripped the rungs tighter, pausing to get his balance back. 

Damn Fujiko. She’d get them all killed if she couldn’t hold that copter steady. 

“Jigen!” Goemon’s shout ripped Jigen’s attention back to the field. And to the lone man running pell mell toward the ladder, a look of absolute hatred and murder on his face. Exo. 

Jigen’s gun was up and aimed, but he held his shot as the ladder shook again. 

One bullet.

He looked down to see another gangster grab the bottom rung of the ladder and haul himself up, a knife between his teeth. 

“Lupin, look alive!” Jigen shouted. “We’ve got company!”

One bullet. Two men.

“Hiyah!” he heard Goemon’s shout a moment before he saw the silver flash of Zantetsuken hurtling across the field, Goemon’s arm extended from the throw. 

Exo crouched -- oblivious or ignoring the blade arcing toward him -- and there was a gun in his hand now. A gun aimed over Jigen’s head. A gun aimed for Lupin. 

Jigen saw the arc of Goemon’s sword behind Exo -- it was too late. Too slow. He cursed as the ladder shook again. He couldn’t draw a bead. 

Exo fired. 

Jigen saw the bullet leave the gun, headed straight for Lupin’s chest.

Zantetsuken struck Exo in the back so hard it threw him forward, pinning him to the ground like some grotesque butterfly. 

The world slowed as Jigen watched Lupin turn, wide-eyed, into the path of the bullet, saw that smirk fade as realization hit him. 

One bullet. 

Jigen aimed. Pain ripped through his left leg. He fired. Cursed. His shot was off by a margin. He knew it as soon as the bullet left the barrel. Knew it like he knew the fire of the knife buried hilt-deep in his thigh.

The gangster below him screamed. Jigen didn’t have to look to know that Zantetsuken had taken him too. The ladder jilted as the gangster fell, his weight suddenly gone.

“Jigen!” Lupin tilted out and down, as if there was something he could do about the knife in Jigen’s leg from seven rungs up. 

Jigen tried to shout, tried to warn him, but he found himself short of breath, voice stolen in the wind of the copter, drowned in the bright flash of pain. 

The bullets passed each other by a hair and then there was a splash of crimson as Exo’s bullet took Lupin in the shoulder, spinning him back against the ladder. Jigen’s bullet splayed one of the ladder’s support ropes a second later. Lupin didn’t even shout, just made this little surprised grunt as the ladder canted dangerously to one side. He lost his grip, hands scrabbling at loose rope that suddenly wasn’t there. Jigen saw his eyes go wide.

Lupin fell. 

Jigen reached for him, a desperate lunge, dropping his gun as he stretched as far as he dared on the ladder. 

The copter dropped dangerously as Fujiko leaned over the console to watch Lupin fall, her mouth open in a scream. 

Jigen’s fingers brushed Lupin’s shirt, grasped at his arm -- and missed. 

“Goemon!” Jigen shouted, voice cracking with pain and fear. 

“I’ve got him!” Goemon was there, suddenly, just below Jigen, Zantetsuken tucked into his belt and a death grip on the back of Lupin’s shirt. Lupin hung limp. “Can you climb?” Goemon shouted over the noise of the helicopter. 

Jigen froze for a moment, relief flooding him so intensely he couldn’t answer. Then he nodded, teeth set in grim determination. Goemon nodded back and shifted Lupin so that he rested over his shoulder. 

Jigen dragged himself up the swaying ladder, left leg near useless as Fujiko leveled out and lifted them off that bloody field. Jigen had no idea how they all got into the helicopter, but they did and Goemon was asking him something about the knife in his leg, but he couldn’t focus on that and Lupin was lying still, so still against the opposite wall. Jigen’s arm was too heavy to point and his mouth didn’t seem to want to say the words his brain thought and his eyelids were closing of their own accord and he accepted the darkness. 

Because in the darkness he could forget. 

He could forget that he missed.

Ice clinked in his glass, condensation dripping over his numb fingers, but Jigen hardly noticed. 

“Jigen.” 

Jigen stared down into his third glass of whiskey, one hand falling absently to the bandage around his left leg. Goemon had pulled the knife out and stitched him up when they returned to their hideout although Jigen near fainted again when he did it. It surprised him that he hadn’t lost more blood than he did. Then again, he supposed it shouldn’t surprise him anymore -- not with the charmed life the four of them led. 

_Three of you,_ that little voice in the back of his head nagged. Because Lupin was still out cold with a freaking bullet in his shoulder.

Jigen took a larger-than-necessary sip of whiskey, surprising himself when the glass came up empty. 

“Jigen.” 

He reached out, mechanical, for the bottle on the table in front of him and poured himself another glass. 

“Jigen!” 

He only looked up when the whiskey splashed over the rim and dribbled into his lap.

Goemon’s hand descended on the bottle, tipping it back, setting it upright again. And then the samurai was leaning up against the table, facing Jigen.

“Are you alright?” Goemon asked. 

Jigen grunted and looked down, tipping his head until the brim of his hat obscured his expression. 

Goemon reached out and tipped the hat up, bending down until Jigen had no choice but to look at the samurai or close his eyes. 

“Hey, Lupin’s alive, you know.”

“Yeah,” Jigen said, because that’s all he could say. 

“He’ll be alright,” Goemon said. “The doctor says that with rest he’ll be good as new.” 

Jigen grunted. 

“C’mon, Jigen, it’s not like Lupin’s never been shot before. And you’ve never reacted like this before. Your leg ok?” Goemon asked, giving Jigen’s injury a quick glance.

“Nothing I can’t handle,” Jigen said.

“Of course,” Goemon gave him the hint of a smile. “But what about your heart?” 

“My heart?” Jigen sipped off the rim of his overfull whiskey glass until the amber liquid settled at a safe level, then leaned back in his chair so that his hat slipped out of Goemon’s fingers and settled low over his eyes again. “What kind of sappy crap are you talking about now, Goemon?” 

“Now?” From his tone of voice, Jigen could imagine the look of surprise Goemon was affecting. “Since when do I talk about sappy crap?” his tone was light, but Jigen could hear the searching question behind the words.

On a good day, he would have laughed. 

“You’re hiding something,” Goemon accused. 

“No.” 

Goemon was silent for a long moment. 

Jigen sipped his whiskey under his hat. 

“Here. I rescued this for you.” Jigen saw Goemon’s hand under the brim of his hat, holding his magnum. It looked none the worse for wear from it’s wild tumble. 

Jigen grunted. 

Goemon sighed and set the gun on the table, hand lingering for a moment, like if he let it go, he didn’t have an excuse to stand around and talk to Jigen anymore. Then he tapped the gun once, like he’d made a decision, and his hand left Jigen’s field of view as he walked away. 

Buried under his hat, Jigen didn’t see the look of concern on Goemon’s face. 

“There’s something wrong with Jigen,” Goemon said, as he eased the door to Lupin’s room closed behind him. 

Fujiko turned from Lupin’s bedside with an angry look on her face that clearly told Goemon he was interrupting something. As usual, Goemon ignored it and came to sit cross-legged on the end of Lupin’s bed. 

Lupin was asleep -- whether from the affects of the pain or the drugs or both, Fujiko wasn’t sure -- but he looked more like himself now that he wasn't pale and bleeding everywhere. His left shoulder was wrapped in bandages, his arm in a sling to keep it still for a few days. Fujiko knew he was only still right now because he was asleep. As soon as he woke up he’d be scheming again, planning another heist or three. It was impossible to hold the man down. Most of the time, Fujiko found it endearing. 

“Goemon,” Fujiko started, tone annoyed. 

“There’s something wrong with Jigen,” Goemon repeated. 

“Alright, what is it?” Fujiko huffed. 

“He didn’t want his gun.” 

Fujiko’s eyes widened. “Are you serious?” 

Goemon nodded. 

“I mean, he’s probably just tired,” Fujiko said. “And he doesn’t really _need_ his gun. Not here,” she gestured around herself to indicate the safe house. But it was a weak excuse. They both knew Jigen always carried his gun, no matter where he was. Safe, in danger, or just mildly inconvenienced, that magnum never left Jigen’s side. Fujiko even suspected the gunman showered and slept with it but she wasn’t going to pry enough to confirm it. The only time it wasn’t in its place at Jigen’s back was when Jigen disassembled it to clean it. 

“He also spilled his whiskey,” Goemon said. 

Fujiko tried for a casual shrug, but from the look on Goemon’s face, she didn’t fool him. “He’s injured,” she said. “His hands are probably shaky,” she suggested but neither one believed it.

“He hasn’t come to see Lupin,” Goemon tossed out the last nail in the coffin.

Fujiko winced. Even she couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one. Jigen was always the first one at Lupin’s side if he was injured, fussing over the little details, shooing Fujiko out of the room, adjusting bandages, keeping midnight vigils. But this time...this time he hadn’t even laid eyes on Lupin since they got back. In fact, he’d kept a careful distance from all of them tonight, barely allowing Goemon to get close enough to stitch up his knife wound. 

“Goemon, you don’t think…” Fujiko’s eyes got wide. 

A gunshot in the living room had Fujiko and Goemon on their feet in an instant, running for the door. 

Fujiko got to the door first and yanked it open, heart in her throat as she steeled herself for whatever she was about to find on the other side. She felt an immediate surge of relief when she saw Jigen, standing in the middle of the room, back to the door and very much alive. Fujiko motioned for Goemon to watch her back and walked slowly into the room, edging around Jigen until she could see him in profile. 

He gripped his magnum in both hands, legs spread wide, weight on his right side. A classic gunman’s stance, but one Fujiko rarely saw Jigen use. He didn’t need that much stability. Jigen usually shot one-handed, on the fly, loose, fluid, ready for anything. Not this stiff, awkward, two-handed stance. 

She followed the end of his smoking gun to his target -- his empty whiskey glass, sitting on the kitchen counter across the room. An easy shot. Child’s play for Jigen. But the bullet hole in the wall beside the glass told her all she needed to know. Explained Jigen’s wide-eyed stare under his tipped-back hat, the shake in his hands. 

Fujiko walked up to Jigen, careful to keep herself obvious, to keep her hands in sight.

“Jigen,” she said softly, voice low, sweet. Unassuming.

He didn’t respond. 

Fujiko stopped. Goemon was right. There was something wrong with Jigen. For him to outright ignore Fujiko like this was practically unheard of. If he wasn’t denouncing her ideas or telling Lupin that their latest snafu was all her fault, he was at least tossing derogative or sarcastic remarks her way. It was a familiar dance now, that casual, backhanded manner she’d come to expect, almost enjoyed, from Jigen. Because even Fujiko could admit that most of the time he was right, but Lupin never listened so she usually got away with it anyway. Jigen was the one who grounded them all, kept things real, kept them on their toes. 

But now -- now he looked like one good gust of wind would blow him down. 

Fujiko put a hand on his arm. 

He flinched and looked over at her like he’d seen a ghost. 

“Jigen,” she crooned, tone like one she might use on an injured dog, willing him to trust her for a minute. 

He looked at Fujiko like she was a lifeline and he was drowning. 

Fujiko swallowed hard. She’d never -- _never_ \-- seen Jigen ever look at anyone like that before. Not even when they’d been in over their heads, when their plans were shot, when they’d run into the proverbial brick wall. And especially not at _her._

Fujiko reached for his magnum. Jigen didn’t protest. She pried it from his fingers with no resistance and cautiously laid it on the living room table. 

“Jigen, hey, let’s sit down, ok?”

Jigen nodded and it was like all the willpower left him in that one move. Fujiko realized it a moment before he collapsed and had her arms around him, but she knew she probably wouldn’t be able to hold the taller, heavier gunman upright. But there was Goemon, quiet and steady, slipping under Jigen’s left shoulder right before Jigen crumpled. 

Fujiko took the moment to extricate herself from this delicate situation. She’d never been good with delicate stuff anyway. Goemon must have seen the indecision on her face. He met her gaze across Jigen’s chest and gave her a nod. 

_Thanks,_ she mouthed as she backed away. She felt the table behind her back and slipped a hand back for Jigen’s gun as Goemon settled Jigen on the couch. Fujiko retreated to Lupin’s room before she could hear what Goemon said to Jigen. Somehow, she didn’t want to hear what the samurai said to the gunman. She suddenly felt incredibly out of her league.

She let the door to Lupin’s room close behind her, turning the knob slowly so that it wouldn’t click against the strike plate. This wasn’t a retreat, she told herself as she pressed her back up against the door, feeling the cold steel of Jigen’s magnum in her hand. This was just a strategy. A strategy to get out of Jigen’s hair and give him some time without her. Goemon would keep him from doing any harm. He didn’t need Fujiko. 

But the truth was, Fujiko couldn’t bear to see Jigen like this. Because if Jigen fell apart, everything fell apart. 

She could only hope Lupin would know what to do when he woke up. 

Lupin shifted, his consciousness coming back slowly, in bits and pieces. He was aware of a sharp ache in his shoulder, the familiar pain of a gunshot wound. But it was a bearable ache. He was lying in bed -- his bed. He could tell from the feel of it, the indelible imprint he’d left in the mattress after who knows how many years sleeping on it. It was dark in his room. He could tell that even with his eyes closed. The kind of dark that only came right before dawn. 

He heard the rustle of cloth beside him as someone shifted and allowed himself a grin as he blinked bleary eyes to clear his vision. 

“Jigen!” 

He was upright in an instant, leaning toward the figure before he realized it was --

“Goemon?” 

Lupin scratched his head. 

“How do you feel, Lupin?” the samurai asked from his cross-legged position on the wooden chair by Lupin’s bed. How he found that comfortable Lupin had no idea. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” Lupin said, rolling his shoulder experimentally. It hurt, but he could move everything, though for once he was grateful for the sling to take the weight of his arm (though he wasn’t going to admit that.) “But what about Jigen?” there was a note of apprehension in Lupin’s voice he wasn’t able to cover for. Jigen was always the one he woke up to after an injury -- always. 

The last thing Lupin remembered before getting shot was watching Jigen get stabbed with a knife and feeling useless because he couldn’t do anything about it. If Jigen wasn’t here in his room, then had his friend taken a bigger hit than Lupin thought? 

“He’s…resting,” Goemon said after a weighty pause. 

“But he’s ok, right?” Lupin asked. 

“Strictly speaking,” Goemon said. 

“What does that mean?” Lupin swung his legs over the edge of the bed and was on his feet before Goemon could stop him. He cast about for a shirt, grabbing his navy button-up from where it lay in a crumpled pile at the foot of the bed. He scowled at the bullet hole and the blood still staining the left shoulder, then dropped the shirt back on the floor. He didn’t need a shirt to see Jigen anyway. 

“Lupin,” Goemon was at his side. “Are you sure you should be out of bed?” 

Lupin waved him away as he walked over to the door. “I’m fine,” he said again. “Really.” Then he paused and looked over at Goemon. “Why?” 

Goemon shrugged, but there was something deliberate about the movement. Goemon was hiding something. And he’d never been good at hiding anything. He was too honest. 

“What’s wrong with Jigen?” Lupin asked softly, dread settling in his stomach. 

Goemon sighed, but he looked relieved. “You should probably see for yourself,” he said. 

Lupin found two small comforts in that. One, it meant Jigen was alive. And two, it meant Goemon didn’t know what to do with Jigen, but he thought Lupin did. Right. Lupin reached out and put his hand on the doorknob. This was nothing he couldn’t handle. Jigen was his best friend, after all. Whatever happened, Lupin was sure he could fix it. He put on a goofy smile and burst into the living room. Only, Jigen wasn’t in the living room. 

He crossed the living room into the shared kitchen in a few short strides and stopped. Jigen wasn’t in the kitchen either. He wasn’t sprawled on the couch or at the table, feet propped up with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He wasn’t even in his room because the door was wide open and Jigen never left the door open while he was in the room.

But then the cool night breeze wafted through the open French doors in the kitchen, bringing the unmistakable scent of Jigen’s cigarette smoke with it. Lupin moved cautiously toward the porch, sock feet near silent on the tile floor. Jigen was out on the porch, leaned up against the railing, left leg half-bent, smoking a cigarette. There was nothing unusual about any of that except that Jigen wasn’t wearing his hat and he didn’t have his suit coat on either, which meant Lupin noticed that his gun wasn’t tucked into its usual place at Jigen’s back. 

Goemon made a noncommittal noise at the back of his throat and wandered over to take a seat on the living room couch, legs crossed, eyes closed. Far enough away to give Lupin and Jigen space, but not so far away that he wouldn’t be at hand if something happened. Despite the fact that Goemon was trying to be casual about it, Lupin knew what he was doing. He would’ve chuckled at Goemon’s failed attempt at subtlety were his stomach not tying itself in knots. Goemon was wary, moving around Jigen like he might around a wounded animal. Judging by the sky, Lupin had only been out for a few hours -- so what had happened while he was asleep? He took a deep breath and walked out onto the porch with Jigen. 

Lupin approached slowly, letting his shadow fall over the rail beside Jigen before he stepped up beside him. He knew Jigen saw it, would recognize Lupin’s gangly shadow anywhere, but Jigen didn’t turn, didn’t say hi or ask Lupin how he was feeling. 

“Jigen?” Lupin leaned on the rail beside his friend. 

Jigen put his head down in lieu of pulling the brim of his absent hat over his eyes. “Hey, Lupin.” 

“You ok?” Lupin decided to be direct. Whatever was going on here was worse than he thought. Worse by leaps and bounds.

Jigen was silent for a long moment. Finally he said, “No.” 

“No? Are you hurt? I mean, more hurt than...you know…” Lupin gestured at Jigen’s bandaged leg. “Than that?” 

“Don’t play dumb with me, Lupin,” Jigen said, voice tinged with anger. 

“Wha…?” Lupin lurched back a little, like Jigen’s words carried physical weight. “What do you mean?” 

“You know damn well what I mean.” 

“Ok, humor my dumb brain then and help me out, ‘cause I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I bloody-freaking-missed!” Jigen snarled, raising his head to meet Lupin’s eye for the first time. There was a glint there that Lupin had rarely seen before, something wild and untamed. Something that probably had more than a little to do with the smell of the whiskey mixing with the cigarette smoke on Jigen’s breath.

“I missed and you got shot because of it,” Jigen continued. “I’m supposed to be your gunman, yeah? You’re supposed to count on me! Well, you can’t count on a gunman who can’t hit anything!” 

Lupin stared at Jigen for a minute. Then he broke into a huge grin. “That’s what this is about?” He laughed -- a good long laugh -- until his stomach hurt and he was bent double, gasping for breath. He straightened up with tears at the corners of his eyes. “You’re mad because you missed once? Jigen, that shot you tried to pull, that was extraordinary even by your standards! You expect me to believe you could’ve hit Exo’s bullet mid-air while taking a knife in your leg? If anybody’s to blame, it’s me for getting us stuck in that situation in the first place. C’mon,” Lupin draped his good arm around Jigen’s stiff shoulders. “Everything’s fine. I’m not dead. See?” Lupin wiggled his fingers in Jigen’s face for emphasis. Then he lowered his voice, leaning in conspiratorially. “Besides, even a master gunman is allowed to miss once in his life.” 

Jigen shoved Lupin off unceremoniously. “Then what is that?” he asked, jerking a thumb over his shoulder at the kitchen wall. Lupin turned and followed Jigen’s thumb to see a whiskey glass sitting on the counter. 

“Um, your whiskey glass?” he asked, confused. 

“No, look at the wall behind it.” 

Lupin found it as soon as Jigen said it. A bullet hole in the wall, just to the left of the glass. 

“Yeah, so?” he asked softly, mouth suddenly dry. 

“So, what happens when your master gunman misses twice, huh?” 

“It’s--”

“Don’t say it!” Jigen shouted. 

In the living room, Goemon cracked an eye open.

“Don’t say ‘it’s fine.’ Because it’s not!” Jigen reached up as if to grab his hat, then stopped as he realized he wasn’t wearing it. He growled, snubbed his cigarette on the porch railing, and stomped through the house to his room, slamming the door behind him.

Lupin sagged against the porch railing and met Goemon’s eye across the open space. Then he padded over to the empty glass and picked it up. 

“How many?” he asked Goemon. 

Goemon shrugged. 

“Three. That I saw.” 

Goemon’s unspoken implication floated in the air between them. _And however many more I didn’t._

Lupin tossed the glass down in frustration. It spun on it’s edge before teetering and settling upright on the counter. “No wonder he didn’t hit it.” Lupin sighed and leaned against the counter, looking around the living room and kitchen. He met Goemon’s eye.

“Fujiko?” he asked, a hopeful note in his voice. 

Goemon shrugged. “She went out about an hour ago. Something about fresh air.” 

Lupin rolled his eyes and came to sit next to Goemon on the couch. Perhaps it was better Fujiko was gone right now anyway. Jigen was in a horrible mood and Fujiko would probably only make it worse. Lupin sighed. 

“I’ve never seen him like this before, Goemon,” Lupin finally admitted.

Goemon tilted his head in acknowledgement. “Perhaps he will sort through it himself given enough time?” 

“I dunno,” Lupin murmured thoughtfully, looking at Jigen’s door. “I dunno.” 


	2. Chapter Two

Lupin laid the map out on the kitchen table and unrolled it with a flourish. “Ta-da!” 

Goemon and Jigen didn’t respond. Jigen didn’t even look.

“C’mon, guys! Get excited! Or tell me I’m crazy, at least. It’s a flawless plan!” 

“Nothing is ever flawless, Lupin,” Goemon said. 

From his spot on the couch, Jigen grunted. Cigarette smoke wafted over his head, forming a pale cloud in the sluggish afternoon air. Even with the French doors open, there wasn’t much of a breeze. It had been three days since the incident with Exo and Lupin was concerned. Fujiko was still gone. Jigen still wasn’t wearing his hat. And he hadn’t touched his magnum once. 

Lupin cleared his throat, but his eyes were still locked on Jigen. “Is that one of your samurai idioms, Goemon?” he asked, cutting the samurai a sideways glance. 

“No. That’s just the truth.” 

Lupin sighed. “Right.” 

He slumped down in one of the wooden chairs at the table. Why was everything so out of whack? Jigen was in the worst funk of his life, Fujiko was gone, and Goemon -- well, he was still Goemon, at least, but Lupin could tell the stress was getting to him too. There were dark circles under the samurai's eyes from where he must be keeping nightly vigils -- for his or Jigen's sake, Lupin wasn't sure.

Lupin sat up a little straighter. "Hey, Jigen, don't you even wanna look?" he asked, forcing his tone to be lighter than he felt. "After all, I'm gonna need your sharpshooting skills on this one."

"No," Jigen said. He didn't move from his position on the couch. 

"Oh, I get it," Lupin waved a dismissive hand. "You're so good you don't need to look. That's why I keep you around, Jigen."

"No," Jigen said again, louder, like Lupin hadn't heard him the first time. 

"Uh, you wanna run that by me again?" Lupin asked.

"I said no," Jigen said. "As in, no, I don't want to look. No, I'm not in on this one. No, you don't want my sharpshooting skills. They might get you killed."

"That's always a risk, Jigen," Goemon said. "Your magnum, my sword, Lupin's Walther -- any one of those could kill us if used incorrectly."

"Right," Lupin warmed to the theme. "But we don’t have to worry about that. We’re all masters of our trade."

“So then why did you almost get killed last time?” Jigen demanded. 

“Aw, c’mon, Jigen, you’re not still on about that, are you? I’ve told you a thousand times, I’m fine. It’s nothing. So you missed a one-in-a-million-shot, so what? Nobody holds that against you. In fact --”

Goemon reached over and tugged Lupin’s sleeve. Lupin fell silent. Jigen had rolled over on the couch so that his back was to Lupin and Goemon and wasn’t paying Lupin any attention. 

Lupin looked at Goemon, helpless. The samurai shrugged, confusion lurking in his tired gaze. Lupin glowered at the map like it might give him answers. He’d been sure a heist was just what Jigen needed to get his fire back. Now? Now he wasn’t so sure.

Fujiko hummed to herself as she drove the winding road up to the hideout. She didn’t feel guilty for peeling out on the team after the whole disaster with Exo -- well, maybe she felt a little guilty. But only a little. 

After all, it was probably best she was gone for a few days considering the mood Jigen was in when she left. 

She looked down at the black box sitting in the passenger seat beside her and smiled. Maybe this would do the trick. 

Oh, who was she kidding? She’d get back to the house and Jigen would be right back to normal, cooking in the kitchen, or telling Lupin why he really should give up on her this time, or coexisting with Goemon in that annoying way they did where they got along without even speaking to each other. How they managed it was beyond Fujiko. If you couldn’t speak your mind then how was everyone supposed to know what you wanted? Not that Jigen had any trouble speaking his mind. It was just never what she wanted to hear.

Fujiko shook her head. No, today she was in a good mood. The back of the car was full of packages from her recent shopping spree -- and that lone black box sitting in the front seat. As solitary and mysterious as the gunman it was for. She couldn’t believe she’d actually bought something for Jigen. But then again she couldn’t believe the way he’d looked at her that night. 

If nothing else, the contents of the box should cheer him up a little bit. Maybe it would even earn her a few brownie points. 

The house was quiet as she pulled to a stop by the front door. She jumped out and loaded herself down with packages and parcels, putting the black box front and center in her arms. With a smile, she walked up to the front door and shoved it open with her foot. 

“Lupin!” she sang out as she entered. “Did you miss me?” 

The silence that met her on the other side of the door was enough to let her know that everything wasn’t all right again. But she chose to ignore it and pretend like she wasn’t getting a death glare from Jigen. Even Goemon looked upset and she rarely ever got anything more than mild annoyance from him. 

“Fuji-cakes!” Lupin’s exclamation came a moment too late. 

But then he was running up to her and chatting and pulling packages out of her arms like it was a normal day. 

“Where have you been?” he asked. 

“Wasting all our money again, as usual,” Jigen said from the couch. 

“Hey, it wasn’t all wasted!” Fujiko stomped her foot, packages teetering precariously in her grip. “Some of it was very well spent, thank you very much.” 

“Oh, like whatever it is you’ve got stuffed in that huge ass black box?” Jigen sneered. 

“Yes. Yes, that one’s very worth it, Jigen. That one’s for you.” 

“What???” Lupin, Jigen and Goemon all exclaimed. Although there were various degrees of anger and surprise in their tones, Fujiko congratulated herself on confounding all three of them at once. 

“You heard me,” she said. “The black box is for Jigen.” 

Jigen sat up on the couch, looking at Fujiko under the fringe of his hair, dark eyes narrowed. 

Lupin, ever oblivious, grabbed the black box out of Fujiko’s hands.

“Hey!” she protested as a few of her carefully balanced packages went tumbling to the floor. 

“You should see what it is, Jigen!” Lupin exclaimed, over-animated. “Fujiko’s never given you a present before. Why don’t you open it?” 

Lupin plopped the square black box in Jigen’s lap and sat down next to him. Jigen eyed Lupin, Fujiko, and the box with suspicion and even cast a doubting glance at Goemon. Goemon shrugged, but he slid Zantetsuken an inch from its sheath. 

Fujiko put down the rest of her packages and walked over to the couch, taking a seat on Jigen’s other side. 

With a heavy sigh, Jigen opened the box.

“My hat!” he yelled, reaching in and yanking out the familiar grey felt. Only, it wasn’t quite as familiar as usual. The bullet holes from their adventure with Exo were gone, the black-powder smudge on the right side was cleaned, even the slouch at the top was smoothed out. Jigen turned the hat over in his hands, glaring at it like he might glare at a bomb.

“You fixed his hat, Fujiko!” Lupin exclaimed. 

“This isn’t my hat,” Jigen said, scowling. 

“You’re right. It’s a brand new one.” Fujiko smiled brightly. 

“You stole my hat!” Jigen accused. 

“I did not!” Fujiko yelled. “I borrowed it.” 

“And didn’t bring it back! That’s stealing!” 

“I brought you a better hat, you ingrate!” 

“Hey, hey, whoa, calm down!” Lupin interjected. 

“I don’t want a better hat! I want  _ my _ hat!” Jigen jumped up from the couch and slammed the hat so hard on his head he dented the top back into its customary slouch. He spun on his heel and stomped to the door. 

“Yeah?” Fujiko jumped to her feet, hands balled at her sides. “Well, at least it looks more like your old hat now! I hope you’re happy, Jigen!” she yelled at his back. 

Jigen slammed the door on his way out.

“Fujiko!” Lupin put his hands on her shoulders and pushed her back down on the couch. “This isn’t the time.” 

“Isn’t the time for what?” Fujiko frowned up at Lupin. “He didn’t accept my present. Are you going to side with Jigen AGAIN?!” 

“Again?” Lupin sighed. “Look, maybe. I don’t know. It’s just -- he’s not himself right now Fuji-cakes and I --” 

“So you  _ are _ going to side with him!”

“I need to go, Fujiko. Goemon, calm her down,” Lupin called over his shoulder as he followed Jigen out the door. 

“Me?” Goemon’s eyebrows shot up as Fujiko turned her angry glare and balled fists on him. 

Lupin dashed out the door and stopped in the front yard. Jigen was nowhere in sight. The car was still here, engine ticking from Fujiko’s appropriation, so that meant Jigen didn’t go far. Lupin looked at the ground. There -- Jigen’s footprints. He recognized the way Jigen always stepped harder on his heel, the soft edge on the left print where he’d worn down the sole of his shoe. The footprints were deep and wide-spaced. He’d been running, the fool. Lupin let his gaze follow the footprints across the driveway and up towards the woods above the house. He set out after Jigen.

Lupin entered the woods and slowed down. He didn’t want Jigen to see him running too. The more you pursued Jigen, the faster he ran. Best to approach cautiously when Jigen was riled. Like a wild dog, the more you pretended like you weren’t paying attention to him, the faster he’d come to you and start talking. Lupin only hoped his strategy still worked when Jigen was wound tighter than a coiled rattlesnake. 

Lupin smelled cigarette smoke a moment before he saw Jigen’s pale blue sleeve sticking out from behind the tree he was leaning against. Lupin walked up, stride normal, making sure he crunched a few dead leaves and sticks on the way so Jigen heard him approach. He fingered the hard outline of Jigen’s Magnum, tucked into the back of his waistband, where he’d been keeping it ever since Jigen abandoned it three nights ago. 

“Hey, Jigen,” Lupin said, leaning up against Jigen’s tree, so close their elbows brushed.

Jigen grunted. 

Lupin pulled a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and held it out toward Jigen. Jigen lit it from the smoldering tip of his own cigarette. 

Lupin took a draw on the cigarette and let it out slowly. “Sorry, man.”

Jigen sighed and tipped his head back against the tree, pushing his hat further over his face. At least he was wearing the hat. That was a good sign, right? 

“I thought you’d just given up on the hat.” 

Jigen exhaled a cloud of smoke. “You thought I _gave up_ _on my hat?_ ” 

“I...uh...yeah,” Lupin rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t know Fujiko took it.” 

“Lupin. How long have we known each other?” 

“Six, seven years. Why?” 

“And when have you ever known me to  _ not  _ wear my hat?”

“Um...never?” 

“And how often have you known Fujiko to steal from us?” 

“On purpose?”

“Yeah.” 

“A...lot.” 

“So why in the world  _ wouldn’t _ you think she stole it when they disappeared at the same time?!” 

“Jigen, why  _ would _ I think Fujiko stole your hat? Fujiko only steals things that are valuable. There’s absolutely no reason she would steal your hat for herself.” 

“My hat’s valuable,” Jigen grumbled. “To me. And she knew that. She wanted to rub it in my face.” 

“She wanted to do something nice for you!” Lupin protested, beginning to feel fed up. “And in her case, that means shopping.” 

“Fujiko doesn’t give a damn about me.” 

“You think? Maybe that’s because you don’t give a damn about her either.” 

“You know that’s not true, Lupin.” 

“Do I? ‘Cause you’re kind of being a bitch right now, Jigen. We’re trying to help you and you keep shrugging us off like it’s going out of style.” 

“I am not shrugging you off!” Jigen stood up straight and turned to face Lupin. “I’m trying to get you to understand that I failed.” 

“So what if you failed?! You think I care about that?” Lupin pushed off the tree and stepped forward, until he and Jigen were just inches apart. “You think I care about a little mistake in the middle of a heist gone wrong? If you think that you don’t know me well enough, Jigen. Now here,” Lupin pulled Jigen’s gun out of his waistband and held it out toward Jigen. “Put this back in your pants where it belongs,” Lupin waggled his eyebrows, “and let’s put this all behind us.” Lupin cracked a grin. “Besides, she’s lonely. You haven’t touched her in --” 

“Shut up, Lupin!” 

Lupin stopped mid-sentence, grin faltering. Jigen’s hands were fists by his sides, back straight, eyes hidden under the brim of his hat. There wasn’t even a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. Every line was straight anger. Lupin cleared his throat. “It was a joke, Jigen,” he said. 

“I know! Because all you ever do is crack jokes. This is serious.” Jigen’s eyes flashed from under the brim of his hat. “I nearly got you killed. The last thing I want to touch is my own failure. Now leave me alone and let me deal with this my way. Nobody can help me sort this out. Not Fujiko. Not Goemon. Not you!” Jigen stabbed a finger into Lupin’s chest at the last word, then turned and stalked away.

Lupin found himself, for once, at a complete and utter loss for words.

When he got back to the house, he found Fujiko and Goemon at each other’s throats. Or, more accurately, Fujiko at Goemon’s throat and Goemon stoically ignoring her, as usual. They both stopped and looked toward the door when Lupin walked in, hope in their eyes. It died when they saw Jigen wasn’t with him. 

Lupin dragged himself over to the couch and flopped down on his back with a sigh, throwing a forearm over his face. He still had Jigen’s Magnum in his right hand and he wrapped his fingers around the grip, squeezing as if somehow he might wring answers from the gun. 

“Lupin!” Fujiko began in that tone that meant she was about to point fingers at someone and expect Lupin to do something about it. 

“Not now, Fujiko,” he said. 

He heard Fujiko give a surprised little squeak. Lupin had never shut her down so quickly before. 

“Lupin?” Goemon asked. 

“Guys,” Lupin sighed. “It’s time.” 

“You can’t mean…?” Fujiko trailed off. 

“I do.” 

“I’ll get the phone,” Goemon said.


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Zenigata uses a corded phone in this chapter. It’s Red Jacket, what can I say?  
> And...I think Zenigata's been the hardest character to write so far. (But also probably the most fun) Hopefully he rings just as true to character as the rest of the gang ;)

Zenigata was sitting at his desk, enjoying a bowl of ramen when the phone rang. He picked it up on the second ring. 

“Inspector Zenigata.” 

“Hey, Pops.” 

“Lupin!” Zenigata was on his feet in an instant, ramen bowl flying. He yelped as the hot soup spilled on him and the bowl clattered to the floor. He ignored it. “What are you up to now, Lupin?” he demanded. 

“Look, Pops, I’m not ‘up to’ anything. I need -- ” Lupin paused and Zenigata swore he could hear him grinding his teeth on the other end of the line. In fact, now that he thought about it, Lupin didn’t sound as chipper and cocky as usual. 

“You need?” Zenigata prompted, his curiosity piqued. 

“-- your help,” Lupin finished. 

Zenigata was silent. Lupin needed his help? It wasn’t like they hadn’t worked together a few times before, though mostly it was the other way around -- Zenigata asking Lupin for help in exchange for a day or two without arrest. As far as Zenigata knew, Lupin never asked anyone for help. Not outside his team anyway. Zenigata stared at the phone for a minute, then stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it around, just in case something was stuck in there and he hadn’t heard right. He put the phone back to his ear. 

“...you still there, Pops?” 

“I’m here. What are you trying to pull on me, Lupin?” 

“Nothing. Honest. I need your help, old man.” 

“Hey! You’d best take that back if you expect any help from me.” 

“Whatever you say,” Lupin sighed. He sounded tired. “Now, will you help me or not?” 

Zenigata paused for a minute and ran a hand through his hair. He wasn’t sure if this was a trick. But trick or no, maybe this would finally be his chance to arrest Lupin for good. If he offered to help, he could put a price on it. A price of Lupin’s arrest. Zenigata chuckled to himself. He’d have to play it smooth, of course, so Lupin didn’t see it coming until the end. But he could do that. After all, he was Inspector Zenigata from Interpol. And he was an expert on Lupin III. Zenigata sat back in his office chair and propped his feet up on the desk. 

“Sure, why not? I’ll help ya, Lupin. But we’re gonna have to discuss price.” 

“Price?” Lupin squawked. 

“Well, I can’t just go helping my arch-nemesis for free now, can I?” Zenigata smiled, wrapping the cord of the phone around one finger. 

Two hours later Lupin, Goemon, and Fujiko walked into Inspector Zenigata’s office.They were in disguise, of course, as police officers. People Zenigata would be expected to communicate and plan with on a daily basis. After all, they couldn’t let just anyone see Lupin strolling through the front doors of ICPO. Zenigata could hardly believe he was planning a heist with Lupin -- Lupin III -- in ICPO headquarters. 

“Nice place you got here, Pops,” Lupin smirked as he walked in. Goemon and Fujiko automatically fanned out to flank him as they stepped into the room. Zenigata had to hand it to Lupin. His team was a well-oiled machine. Even if they didn’t always get along.

But what shocked him most was the missing fourth member. Jigen. Jigen was Lupin’s right-hand man. More loyal than Goemon, and certainly more faithful than Fujiko. He was the one member of the team Zenigata could always count on being at Lupin’s side, no matter what. 

“So, you were telling the truth,” he muttered. 

He saw the flash of pain in Lupin’s eyes, even as the master thief flung up a dramatic hand and sighed theatrically. “Sadly, yes, Pops. We’re down our best man.” 

Zenigata almost expected Jigen to pop up out of nowhere, hat rakishly tilted over a cocky grin, and declare the whole thing a big joke, but nothing happened. And it was the nothingness that really struck a chord with him. That nothingness that he saw reflected in Lupin’s eyes.

“You’re making it sound like a wedding, Lupin,” Fujiko huffed, crossing her arms and dragging them all back to the moment. She looked at Zenigata. “What Lupin’s trying to say is that Jigen lost his moxy and we need to get it back.” 

_Need._ Even Fujiko admitted to needing Jigen. Zenigata felt something tighten in his chest despite himself. 

“Yeah.” Lupin rubbed the back of his neck and looked down for a second. But when he looked back up, that crafty grin was back. 

“And why, exactly, do you need my help again?” Zenigata asked, crossing his arms. Lupin had him sold. The looks of sheer dejection on all their faces had him sold. But he couldn't be seen as a pushover, so he tossed out one more cautious cop card.

“Because Jigen has to believe that Lupin is in danger. And you are a source of danger,” Goemon said. 

Zenigata puffed out his chest. He couldn’t help it. “That’s right!” he agreed, jabbing a thumb into his chest. “I’m the most dangerous thing on the Lupin case.” 

“Pops, you’re the only thing on the Lupin case.” Lupin rolled his eyes. 

“Hey!” Zenigata yelled, coming around the desk to get in Lupin’s face. He might be sold, but that didn’t mean he had to agree with the cocky thief. Lupin’s challenging grin made Zenigata want to fling handcuffs and arrest him on the spot. But he’d promised not to arrest him. At least, not yet. So the best he could fling were words.

“Boys, boys,” Fujiko interjected and pushed Zenigata and Lupin apart before it could escalate. “We’ve got work to do.” 

Both Zenigata and Lupin looked a little abashed. “Of course we do, Fuji-cakes,” Lupin said. Then he turned to Zenigata. “Alright, Pops, what have you got that I can rob?” 

Zenigata sighed and consciously pulled the brim of his hat lower, as if that might mask what he was about to do. As if that might hide the fact that the chief officer on Lupin’s case was about to help the thief plan a robbery. Zenigata lowered his voice and leaned in close. Lupin, Fujiko, and Goemon automatically leaned closer as well.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” Zenigata said, “but there’s a train coming in tomorrow night with a whole case of jewels on board. They’re shipping some rare gemstones to a local museum for display.” 

“Perfect!” Lupin rubbed his hands together. 

“This sounds too easy, Lupin,” Goemon said, one eyebrow raised. Zenigata was never sure if that meant the samurai was confused or concerned. Or silently judging everybody else for not coming to the same conclusion he did. It was hard to tell with Goemon. “Remember, Jigen has to believe you’re in danger, or he won’t come.” 

“I’m way ahead of you, Goemon,” Zenigata smiled. “Let me show you!” He patted a projector on his desk and pointed at three wooden chairs in front of it. He cleared his throat. “Well, take a seat,” he said when the three just stood there. 

Lupin, Goemon, and Fujiko turned their chairs so that they were facing the wall to the right of Zenigata’s desk. Zenigata drew the curtains and turned on the projector. 

“Now, Jigen knows that I wouldn’t kill Lupin, so to make this believable, we’ve got to add a third element, someone Jigen will take...erm...seriously,” Zenigata coughed slightly into his hand. Before anyone could comment on that, he continued, “And that’s where she comes in!” Zenigata pointed at the picture projected on the wall. It showed a serious blonde woman with a rifle slung over one shoulder. 

“Who’s that, Pops?” Lupin asked, brow cocked in query. 

“Oh, right,” Zenigata shook himself. He’d been waiting on Jigen to jump in and tell them who the woman was. He cleared his throat and explained, “Jaina Sark. She’s a professional assassin with mob ties.” He flipped through a few more slides that showed grainy security pictures of a woman lying on the roof of a building, aiming down the scope of her gun. “I took the liberty of going under cover and hiring her as an...um... _expert_ to assist in detaining Lupin when he tries to rob the train.” Zenigata rubbed the back of his neck, but couldn’t stop a pleased grin from creeping across his face. 

“You _hired_ her?” Fujiko demanded, at the same time Lupin laughed, “You used ICPO funds to hire an assassin?” 

Goemon just frowned, as usual, and sat with his arms crossed over Zantetsuken, which leaned against his shoulder. 

“Of course I didn’t use ICPO funds to hire her!” Zenigata exclaimed, a frown on his face. “I contacted her incognito and offered her a ridiculous sum of money if she managed to kill Lupin.” 

“Money you don’t have,” Fujiko pointed out.

“Eh,” Zenigata rubbed the back of his neck. “Right.” 

“So, what happens when she finds out you lied about the money?” Lupin asked, genuinely curious. 

“You think I’m going to actually let her kill you?!” Zenigata demanded. She had to kill Lupin before they even discussed money. Which, really, was the only way Zenigata had convinced himself to go through with this plan. Because if she _didn’t_ kill Lupin (and he had no intention of letting her do it), then she never actually had to get paid. Which meant he never had to reveal his lie.

Lupin looked flustered. “Well...no.” 

“Besides, if the point is to shock Jigen back into action, she’ll do it,” Zenigata said. 

“Wait, that’s the plan? We’re putting Lupin’s life on the line and just hoping Jigen shows up?” Fujiko demanded. 

“What part of ‘put Lupin in danger’ did you not understand?” Goemon asked, a touch of a grin quirking the corner of his mouth.

Lupin scratched his head. “Yeah. I thought I made that pretty clear on the way here.” 

“Well, I didn’t think that ‘putting Lupin in danger’ meant ‘hire a professional assassin to kill him.’” Fujiko put her hands on her hips. “Besides, how are we going to convince Jigen to help us on this one? He’s already told us he’s out.” 

“We’re not going to convince him, Fuji-cakes,” Lupin grinned at her. “He’s going to convince himself.” 

“But what if he _doesn’t_?” Fujiko demanded. 

Lupin looked away for a minute and Zenigata caught the doubt on his face. 

“This is Jigen we’re talking about,” Zenigata cut in. “Even I know enough about the man to know that his sense of honor won’t let him not show up.” 

“Honor? Since when has Jigen had honor?” Fujiko’s eyebrows shot up. 

“He has more honor than you,” Goemon said quietly. 

“Well, I never!” 

“Fujiko!” Lupin grabbed her hand as she stood up and pulled her gently back into her seat. “I need you on this one. Ok? No one’s questioning your honor,” Lupin said, elbowing Goemon in the ribs.

“I was,” Goemon muttered under his breath.

Zenigata sighed. They really were falling apart at the seams. If he expected life to go back to normal anytime soon, they’d better get Jigen back, and quick. 

“Forget I said anything about honor,” Zenigata muttered. “Let’s just plan this heist.” He pressed a button on the projector and a map of the railway system flashed up on the wall. One of the tracks was marked in red. Zenigata grabbed a pointer off his desk and walked up to the wall. “This is the rail the train will take,” he said, pointing at the red rail. “Now there’s a side rail here and the tracks intersect at this mountain pass here,” he tapped the pointer against the wall. “So this is what we’ll do…” 

“We’ll make a thief out of you yet, Pops!” Lupin exclaimed a few hours later.

Zenigata scowled, but there was something behind the scowl. Something that looked almost pleased. “Just so long as you all play your parts,” he growled. 

Lupin stood up and gave him a mock salute. “Don’t you worry about that, Pops. We’re professionals.” 

“Then I guess we’d professionally better get going, Lupin.” Fujiko stood up and Goemon followed suit. “We’ve got a lot to prepare for.” 

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. C’mon guys, let’s see if we can get ol’ sourpuss to change his mind.” 

Goemon chuckled. “I’ll have to tell Jigen you said that.” 

“Don’t you dare!” Lupin chucked Goemon on the shoulder. 

Goemon smiled. 

The three of them headed for the door. 

“Lupin!” Zenigata called as they were about to leave. 

Lupin turned. 

Zenigata tilted his head. 

“Eh, you two go ahead,” Lupin said, waving casually at Fujiko and Goemon. “I’ll be there in a minute.” 

Fujiko nodded and walked out into the hall. Goemon hesitated in the doorway, eyebrow quirked. 

“Go on,” Lupin waved at him again. 

Goemon shrugged and followed Fujiko.

Lupin turned back to Zenigata, jumping a little as he noticed the handcuffs Zenigata was now twirling on one finger.

“Don’t forget your promise now, Lupin,” Zenigata winked.

“Aw, c’mon, can’t you cut me a little slack, Pops?” Lupin asked, trying on his best puppy face.

Zenigata laughed. “And here I was thinking you were a man of your word.” 

“Hey! That’s not fair. I never go back on a promise.” 

“So that means I get to arrest you when this is all over?” Zenigata asked, handcuffs slowing until they dangled from his finger. 

“Of course,” Lupin smiled. “Cross my heart and hope to die. But!” He pointed at Zenigata. “That means you have to keep your promise too. I have to get Jigen back first. And, you know,” Lupin met Zenigata’s gaze, “stay alive.” 

Zenigata nodded gravely. “You have my word, Lupin.” Then he grinned. “Besides, between me and Jigen, you got nothing to worry about.”

Lupin chuckled. “Let’s hope you’re right about that.” 

“I never go back on a promise,” Zenigata said. 

Then they both nodded and Lupin snapped Zenigata a sharp salute. Then he spun on his heel and left the office.

“Do you really think this is a good idea, Lupin?” Goemon asked as Lupin caught up to him and Fujiko in the parking lot.

“It’s the only one I’ve got,” Lupin shrugged. 

“Yeah, but, an assassin?” Fujiko asked, hands on her hips again. 

“Well, it’s not like I haven’t dealt with assassins before,” Lupin said, putting his hands behind his head as he strolled toward the car.

“Not without Jigen,” Goemon pointed out carefully. 

“Well, right, but you can beat an assassin, can’t you?” Lupin asked, voice testier than he would’ve liked as he turned and walked backwards, facing Goemon.

Goemon just shrugged. 

“Goemon!” Fujiko slapped him on the shoulder. “That’s not reassuring.” 

He turned to her with a look of genuine surprise on his face. “Well, of course, I _can_ beat an assassin. But I cannot see the future so I cannot promise that I _will_ beat the assassin. I will certainly do my best.” 

“Jigen would have promised to do it,” Fujiko muttered under her breath. 

Goemon looked more hurt than Lupin expected.

“Fujiko,” Lupin gave her a warning glare. 

She gave him a charming smile in return as she flounced ahead toward the car. 

“For the record, Goemon,” Lupin said, flinging an arm over Goemon’s shoulders and leaning toward him conspiratorially. “I don’t think the assassin stands a chance against you. Or Pops, for that matter.” 

“Did you just compare my skill to Zenigata’s?” Goemon raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“No! No, of course not!” Lupin spluttered. “You’re WAY better than ol’ Pops. I just meant that Zenigata’s got a certain sense of...determination…”

Goemon tilted his head. 

“Not that you don’t, of course!” Lupin said quickly. “But when it comes to me, ol’ Zenigata will...I mean, you’ll --” 

Goemon’s laugh could be heard all the way up to Zenigata’s office.

Zenigata watched the three thieves walk to their car from his office window, hands behind his back. They were a mess, he decided. And they were decidedly more of a mess without Jigen. There was something forced about the way they interacted with each other now, as if they weren’t sure what to do with themselves without their fourth member. As if they were missing their center. 

Zenigata had to admit, it was weird not to hear Jigen’s voice telling Lupin to be realistic, or telling Fujiko she was wrong. And there was a certain energy missing from Goemon now that the gunman was gone. Zenigata had been around the team enough to know that Jigen was the one with an actual head on his shoulders. Despite Lupin’s brilliance and charm, Jigen was the anchor. 

So what had happened to make him hang up his hat? 

Lupin and the others had been vague about it, saying only that Jigen had lost his...moxy, that was how Fujiko put it. Even over the phone, Lupin hadn’t given Zenigata very many details. 

Zenigata sighed and rubbed a hand over his forehead, tilting his hat back. Whatever happened had been extreme, and he figured he’d have to match that feeling to get Jigen back. He hoped he hadn’t gotten in over his head this time. After all, he’d “hired” the nastiest assassin he could find. And, being privy to ICPO records, this was a pretty nasty one. 

No, no need to worry. Zenigata snapped his heels together and stood a little straighter. He was on the case after all. And there was no way he’d let this woman actually kill Lupin. 

Now he just had to hope that the main player in his strategy regained his senses in enough time to play his part.


	4. Chapter Four

When Jigen woke up that morning, he did what he always did. He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed his hat. Well, the hat Fujiko gave him. Which, if he was being honest, was a nice hat. Not that he’d let her know, of course. He wanted to hate it. But he couldn't ignore the fact that Lupin thought it was a genuine gift...and it was a really nice hat. Jigen flopped the hat over his face with a frustrated growl. 

Then he reached for his magnum.

There was a moment of panic when his questing fingers met nothing but a few cigarette butts and an empty whiskey glass. Then he remembered that he wasn’t touching his gun right now anyway and he rolled over on his side with a huff.

After a while, Jigen tipped his hat up and glanced at his Rolex. It was a little after 9am -- and entirely too quiet in the house. Despite their often late hours everybody tended to be up early. Less of the day wasted that way, Lupin always said.

Jigen rolled over and stared at Goemon’s empty bed on the other side of the room. That wasn’t unusual in and of itself. The Samurai was often up before anyone else (in fact, Jigen sometimes wondered if the man even slept for all the time he’d seen Goemon’s empty bed). With a sigh, Jigen rolled out of bed and scounged around on the floor for a clean shirt and tie, then grabbed his pants from the back of a chair at the foot of the bed. When he was dressed, he walked out into the living room.

Lupin, Fujiko, and Goemon were nowhere to be seen. Fujiko wasn’t lying on the couch painting her nails. Lupin wasn’t burning a clumsy attempt at breakfast. Goemon wasn’t meditating in a corner. The house was empty. He felt annoyed that they left and didn’t tell him, but then again, he couldn’t blame them. He made it pretty clear he wasn’t interested in Lupin’s current scheme. 

That didn’t mean they had to go and leave him behind though. Jigen pulled a cigarette out of his shirt pocket and lit it, standing in the middle of the living room for a while. 

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, hearing again the sound Lupin made when he got shot--something that wasn’t a yell, not quite a grunt. A sound of pure surprise. He saw Lupin’s face, his expression frozen as he realized he was falling. He felt the fabric of Lupin’s shirt as it slid through his fingers, the terror that struck him as he realized Lupin was out of his reach. 

Jigen opened his eyes with a sigh. There was no point hanging around here if everyone was gone. He might as well try to clear his head. The problem was, Jigen didn’t really know _how_ to clear his head. If he were Goemon, he would simply meditate until he came to peace with the problem. If he were Fujiko, he would bury his sorrows in money and go shopping until they were broke. If he was Lupin, he would throw himself headfirst into the next scheme in order to outdo himself. 

But Jigen didn't have a coping mechanism. Because Jigen didn't make mistakes. He was the one who lazed on the couch and smoked and offered sage advice the rest of the team would ignore. He was the one who was unfazed by everything, letting problems and Fujiko and personal drama roll off his shoulders like water. 

Which meant now that he had made a mistake, he didn’t know what to do with it. And his friends clumsy attempts at helping only made the situation worse. 

Jigen walked into the kitchen and grabbed a whiskey glass out of the sink. He uncapped a bottle on the counter and poured himself a drink, then went outside on the porch and looked out at the woods surrounding Lupin’s mountain getaway. Normally, he found peace out here, outside the city, in the quiet and calm. But today it didn’t feel right. And not least because the familiar weight of his magnum wasn’t there.

Jigen downed his glass in one go then set it on the porch railing. 

He spun on one heel and walked back into the kitchen, leaving the french doors open. At three paces he spun back, making a gun out of his fingers and pointing at the glass. 

“Bang!” He mimed the kickback of his revolver. 

But just like the night before, the glass stayed perfectly still. 

_What did you expect, you idiot? You just shot it with a finger gun!_

Still, Jigen couldn’t help the sudden churn in his stomach as the glass sat there, silently mocking him. 

He walked up to it and slapped it off the rail, scowling as it shattered on the ground below. Then he walked back into the house, grabbed his coat, and headed out the front door. 

The hideout was quiet when they got back. Too quiet, Lupin thought, even if Jigen was napping. But unless the stubborn fool decided to walk all the way down the mountain to town, he was around here somewhere. Jigen wasn’t known for expending high amounts of energy he didn’t have to, especially when he was upset. The gunman was probably watching them pull in right now, pretending like he wasn’t interested, and smoking his fourth or fifth cigarette of the afternoon. 

Lupin, Goemon and Fujiko headed inside and, after a quick search of the house, confirmed Lupin’s suspicion. Jigen wasn’t home. 

“All the better, I guess,” Lupin clapped his hands together. “We can get right down to laying our trap.” He winked and shrugged out of his police jacket, tossing it onto the couch as he headed into his room. He came out a moment later, dressed in his familiar red, white, and blue attire, and carrying a huge stack of papers and books in his arms. Goemon and Fujiko were both out of their police disguises and sitting at the kitchen table. Lupin dropped the maps and books on the table and spread everything out. 

“Ok, so Zenigata’s plan is actually pretty sound,” Lupin said as he drew an X on the map where the mountain pass was. 

“Considering the fact that Zenigata has dedicated his life to stopping you, I’d expect no less from him,” Goemon said. 

“Are we really going to do what Zenigata suggested?” Fujiko asked, folding her arms and staring at the map. 

“Well…” Lupin scratched his head. “Yeah. I mean, it’s what I’d do anyway.”

“Ok, so let me get this straight,” Fujiko said. She reached into a box on the kitchen table and pulled out a small model train, putting it on the railway line on the map. “So the train comes along here, diamonds in the second to last car. We’ll have a second train waiting here,” she pointed, “on the side track.” 

“Right.” Lupin nodded and pulled a second train out of the box and put it on the side rail. 

“Then I drive you and Goemon to this overpass, here,” Fujiko pulled a model car out of the box and placed it on a bridge than ran across the train tracks a few miles before the side rail. 

“Yes,” Goemon nodded. 

“Then you guys jump off the bridge _onto a moving train_ ,” Fujiko glared at Lupin. 

He shrugged. It’s not like they hadn’t done it before. 

“Where you disconnect the last two cars while I hightail it to the side rail. Then I’ll pull the switch to shunt the last two cars onto the rail while the rest of the train carries on, oblivious. In the meantime, Zenigata will be trying to arrest you and an assassin will be trying to kill you. Did I leave anything out?” 

“Spot on,” Lupin grinned. “Hey, you were really listening back there, Fuji-cakes.” 

“There are diamonds involved,” Goemon pointed out. “Of course she was listening.” 

“I’m a little more worried about the assassin who’s supposed to be riding in the last train car!” Fujiko exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. 

“Assassin, schamassin,” Lupin waved a hand. “We’ll do this so smooth she won’t even know what’s coming.” 

“Isn’t the whole point of this adventure to get her attention though?” 

“Well,” Lupin rubbed the back of his neck. “Sort of. We don’t actually have to get her attention. We just have to get Jigen to think there’s a _possibility_ of getting her attention.”

“But Zenigata already told her you’re robbing the train. She’ll be on high alert,” Fujiko frowned.

“Uh-huh. And that’s what Goemon's for,” Lupin pointed at the samurai. Goemon nodded. “He’ll run distraction if Ms. Sark decides to leave her car.” 

“Oh she’ll leave her car alright,” Fujiko muttered. “And no offense, but I don’t exactly trust Zenigata to stop his own assassin.” 

At that moment, the front door opened and Jigen walked in.

Everyone froze for a moment. A sharp, delicate, balanced-on-the-edge-of-a-knife moment. Lupin turned to see Jigen framed in the door with the sunlight spilling over his shoulders, hands in his pockets and face obscured by the brim of his hat. Fujiko had her mouth open in a little “o” of surprise. Goemon had one slender eyebrow raised -- that expression that could mean anything from shock to amusement. Lupin cleared his throat.

“Hi, Jigen,” he said. 

Jigen grunted and shut the door behind him and the spell broke. He started walking across the room like nothing happened. Lupin swallowed the lump in his throat and turned back to the table. 

“Right, where were we?” he asked, clapping his hands together. Fujiko and Goemon’s attention snapped back to him.

“The assassin in the last car?” Fujiko reminded him, arms crossed, frown back on her face, but her eyes were locked on something over Lupin’s shoulder -- on Jigen.

“Of course!” Lupin exclaimed. 

Jigen stopped halfway across the room. Lupin didn’t turn around, but he watched Fujiko’s face, watched as her eyes stopped tracking Jigen. Listened to the soft scuff of Jigen’s footsteps on the carpet stop. 

He ducked his head to hide a smile and met Goemon’s eye. Time to lay out the bait. “As I was saying, Goemon can take care of --” 

“Aren’t you going to try to pull me into your little scheme?” Jigen interrupted.

Goemon gave Lupin a slight nod. Jigen was biting. 

“I believe Lupin already tried,” Goemon said, giving Jigen a glance out of the side of his eye. “You made it pretty clear you’re not interested.” 

Lupin looked over his shoulder at Jigen and winked. “Unless, of course, you’ve changed your mind?” 

Jigen took a breath, as if he were about to say something, then stopped. He shook his head. 

“No,” he finally said. 

“That’s what I thought,” Lupin sighed dramatically. “Go sulk or something then.” He waved a hand toward Jigen’s room. “We’ll pull this one without you.” 

Jigen’s scowl deepened. “Fine. I wasn’t going to help anyway.” He stomped off to his room and shut the door behind him. But he didn’t slam it this time.

Lupin turned back to the map. 

“We got him,” Goemon murmured with that little half-smile he had when things were going well. 

Lupin smirked. “Hook, line, and sinker.”

“Let’s just hope this crazy idea works,” Fujiko said as she looked back down at the map. 

Jigen flopped onto his bed with a sigh. That conversation hadn’t gone at all the way he intended it. It had sounded so easy in his mind, out in the woods, when he’d rehearsed in front of the birds and squirrels. 

He’d walked into the house planning to get back in on the scheme. To walk up to Lupin and say something like “sorry for being an ass” and jump in like he never left. To get his magnum back -- it just didn’t fit under Lupin’s coat as smoothly as it did his. Lupin carried it too obviously, awkward and unaccustomed to its weight. 

But when he walked in and they all looked at him with those guilty, shifty eyes, the words died on his lips. They were planning something. Not that that was a surprise. He saw them leave the house in police disguises. He knew they were still planning the next heist without him. And he’d told them he didn’t want to be involved. But they were _hiding_ something from him. It wasn’t just that they were planning around him. They were actively _excluding_ him. 

Jigen sighed. This was what he wanted anyway, wasn’t it? He’d failed Lupin. So he just wanted Lupin to leave him alone.

It’s not like he owed it to anyone to be part of the heist. 

It’s not like he owed anything to Lupin. 

But he did. 

He owed everything to that cocky maniac with the devil-may-care grin. 

So then why did he feel so betrayed? 

He could try to blame it on a million things. On Lupin’s overreaching excitement that got them into the Exo scheme in the first place. On that accusatory side-eye Goemon gave him at the table. On the way Fujiko watched him over Lupin’s shoulder like she didn’t trust him. 

Not that he cared one whit whether Fujiko trusted him or not. But the fact that she didn’t trust him around Lupin…? That hurt. That hurt a lot. He’d always been Lupin’s right-hand man. The one to keep eyes on Fujiko and watch Lupin’s back and be there for every heist, no matter how stupid it was. Always. 

He’d been there through thick and thin and stuck with Lupin no matter what. He never left on self-discovery journeys or extended trips around the globe. He didn’t scheme against Lupin, didn’t try to steal Lupin’s treasure. Sure, they argued sometimes, but what friends didn’t? They always made up later. 

There wasn’t anyone he’d rather have at his side than Lupin. 

Not that he didn’t like Goemon. In fact, he and Goemon understood each other in that silent, respectful way that only two true masters of their crafts could. But he and Lupin were another matter entirely. Because he and Lupin were two counterweights on a set of scales. They were about as opposite as night and day (especially when it came to Fujiko) but there wasn’t anybody they trusted more than each other.

A smile tugged at Jigen’s lips. He and Lupin had done more crazy than he figured anyone had a right to. They’d been drinking buddies, and gambling partners, brothers in arms, and shoulders to cry on. They’d patched each other up, pulled each other from the brink of death, laughed at each other and even gotten into fist-fights with each other. And the result? There was no one they knew better.

Except now. Now Jigen wasn’t even sure he knew himself, much less Lupin. Because he failed when Lupin was counting on him most. 

Jigen shuddered as a sudden thought struck him. Was he losing his touch? 

No. There was no way.

Because if he was losing his touch, then he’d have to give up on everything he loved most about his life. Everything he loved most about Lupin. 

Jigen shook his head violently, as if the action would get rid of the thought. No. There’s no way Lupin would dismiss him. But...what good was a gunman without his gun? Jigen reached back and grabbed at empty air where his gun should’ve been. Would Lupin leave him behind because he refused to do what he was good at? 

Lupin was hiding something. That much was obvious. The accusatory glances, the suspicious looks, the way the conversation stopped when Jigen showed up. The only question was -- what? And why was there an assassin involved? He’d heard that much before they all got quiet.

Jigen sat up. 

They were still talking out there, voices low, but it didn’t sound like they were trying too hard to stop him from listening. 

Jigen crept over to the door and leaned up against it.

“I still think it’s a really high risk, Lupin,” Fujiko said. Jigen stifled a snort. 

_Of course you do_ , he thought. _Because the treasure’s probably at risk_. 

“It’s not often you go up against someone who’s actually trying to kill you,” Fujiko continued. 

_Selfish little...wait...someone was trying to kill Lupin?_

“Not to mention Zenigata,” Goemon said. “He’ll be more prepared this time than usual. And we’re short one team member.” 

Jigen ignored the guilty pang that tugged at his chest.

Lupin chuckled. “Oh ye of little faith,” he said and Jigen could only imagine him gesturing grandly as he talked, sly smile in place. “It’s a great plan. In fact, it’s flawless!” he exclaimed.

Jigen smirked despite himself. Lupin said that about every scheme. 

“Lupin, nothing --” Goemon began. 

“-- is flawless,” Lupin finished for him. “I know, I know. But I’ve got a good feeling about this one, guys. A real good feeling.” 

When Jigen joined the team for dinner that evening, the table was spotless. There wasn't even a stray map draped across the couch or a spare model lying on the counter. So much for snooping on Lupin’s plans without asking.

“It’s not like you to clean up, Lupin,” Jigen said, swiping a finger across the table and giving it a suspicious glare. 

“Goemon thought it’d be rude if we left our...the, um, plans all over the table since you didn’t want to be part of this one.” 

Jigen looked over at Goemon and tipped his hat up enough that the samurai could catch his raised eyebrow. 

Goemon nodded solemnly. 

Or sarcastically. It was kind of hard to tell. Even for Jigen.

Jigen looked back over at Lupin, who looked ridiculous. He was wearing an apron. Jigen’s apron, in fact. (Jigen was sure he didn’t look anywhere near that silly in it.) His hands were covered in flour and he had something that looked suspiciously like egg in his hair. 

“Oh, thank goodness, Jigen,” Fujiko said from where she sat on the couch painting her nails. “You can take over in the kitchen. Lupin’s making pancakes.” 

“For dinner?” Jigen asked. 

“Why not?” Lupin smiled. “I thought it was a good idea.” 

“You mean it’s the only thing you can make,” Goemon said. 

“I didn’t see you volunteer to cook!” Lupin shot back. 

“You wouldn’t eat what I made,” Goemon said. 

“How do you know?” Lupin put his hands on his hips. 

Goemon smirked.

Lupin threw his hands up in the air with a sigh and turned back to stirring something suspiciously thick and lumpy. 

Jigen sighed and walked into the kitchen, stealing the bowl and spoon out of Lupin’s hands. 

Fujiko cheered. 

“Hey!” Lupin protested. 

“I’ll cook,” Jigen said. 

“I thought you’d given up on us, Jigen ol’ buddy.” 

“Don’t read too much into this. I have to eat too, you know,” Jigen grumbled. “Now get out of my kitchen. And give me back my apron.” 

Lupin tried to hide the look of defeat as he pulled the apron over his head, but Jigen still saw it. Jigen had do doubt Lupin knew he saw it. Jigen ducked his own head and put the apron on. Damn it. He couldn't go through life being suspicious of Lupin’s every move. But the man was a conniving bastard. Lupin knew how to use his facial expressions and body language to get exactly what he wanted -- especially when he wanted the other person to come to the conclusion as if it were their own. But Jigen was immune to Lupin’s devilish grin and puppy eyes. 

He thought. 

With a growl, Jigen jerked open the fridge and started pulling out ingredients

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that there are episodes where Lupin cooks and it looks like he does a great job, but in my head-canon, he’s a terrible cook and Jigen is the one who usually cooks for the team (and because, Jigen in an apron…)


	5. Chapter Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Since I'm writing Red Jacket style, I keep having to remind myself that the gang can't just google stuff or use as much technology as we do...hence some more good old-fashioned tech -- paper maps and train timetables ;)

“Ok, we got everything?” Lupin asked, putting his hands on his hips and surveying the packed trunk of the rental car. He’d loudly declared it was to keep a low profile within earshot of Jigen, but it was really so that Jigen would have a car to follow them with. Lupin had been purposefully careless about “cleaning up” their plans this morning, leaving trails and clues lying around the living room for Jigen to follow. In fact, Goemon pointed out that the whole thing was too obvious - “C’mon, Lupin, even a kid could follow this!” - but Lupin only smiled and draped a map over the back of the couch. He wanted this to be obvious. He wanted Jigen to feel like he was hitting him on the head with a sledgehammer. Because when Jigen got stubborn, that’s what it took to make the bastard move. And Lupin was going to make him move, damn it.

Beside Lupin, Goemon sighed. “Everything but the kitchen sink,” he said, staring at the bags and gear in the trunk with a long face. 

“Don’t look so bleak, buddy,” Lupin said. “You’ll ruin the effect.” 

“Are you really sure you need this much stuff for the heist?” Goemon asked. 

“Hell, no,” Lupin chuckled. “But I want Jigen to think this thing is bigger than it is. Ergo, more stuff than we need. But it’s fine. The useless stuff will just stay in the car,” Lupin whispered as he peeked out from behind the trunk to see Jigen watching them all from the living room window. 

Jigen had caught on to what they were doing. Lupin was sure of it. But the gunman’s pride wouldn’t let him ask questions or admit his curiosity. He’d been slinking about the house like a stray dog all day, hat pulled over his eyes, glass of whiskey in his hand, looking over shoulders and generally staying underfoot until even Lupin snapped at him to get out of the way. Jigen grunted and stepped back about two inches. And stuck there, like he was part of the decor. 

“He’s starting to creep me out,” Fujiko huffed as she dumped her own bags of supplies in the back of the car.

“Who, Jigen?” Lupin asked, huffing as he tried to force the trunk shut.

“Who else?” Fujiko asked, crossing her arms and staring back at the house. 

“He probably thinks you’re creepy too,” Lupin grunted as Goemon helped him shut the trunk. 

“I am not creepy!” Fujiko stomped her foot. 

“Staring is creepy, Fuji-cakes,” Lupin said as he came around to the front of the car. 

“Jigen started it,” Fujiko huffed as she dropped into the passenger seat. 

“Yeah, but we _want_ him to stare at us,” Lupin said. He jumped into the driver’s seat as Goemon settled in the back. 

Fujiko rolled her eyes. Lupin waved out the window at Jigen, who still stood at the living room window watching them. Jigen didn’t wave back. 

“He’s impatient,” Goemon said. 

“What? How can you tell?” Fujiko asked.

“That’s why he’s not waving. He wants us to hurry and leave so he can satisfy his curiosity without us knowing,” the samurai said. 

“Except that we all know, so what’s the point?” Fujiko demanded as Lupin pulled out of the driveway. 

“Don’t worry about it, Fujiko,” Lupin said. He watched Jigen disappear in the rearview mirror. “It’s a guy thing.” 

Jigen watched the rental car leave the driveway and waited a solid two minutes after it left before moving. He figured he’d given Lupin enough of a show for the fool to think he was interested. He certainly had Fujiko suspicious and even Lupin had gotten short with him this morning.

Jigen smirked. If it was curiosity Lupin wanted, it was curiosity he’d get. Two could play at that game. Lupin wasn’t the only mastermind in the house. 

Jigen set his whiskey glass on the window sill and surveyed the room. It was a mess. Lupin, Fujiko and Goemon had thrown clothes, disguises, weapons, rope, food, and even explosives into bags and boxes that all got shoved into the rental car, leaving the remnants scattered all over the house. In their haste, they hadn’t cleaned up their plans as thoroughly as they did the night before. Jigen told himself he was only digging through everything because he was going to clean the room. But it was a lie and he knew it.

Not all of his curiosity was feigned. It couldn’t hurt to at least take a peek at what Lupin was up to. 

He walked over to the couch and grabbed a folded map off the back. He shoved aside the dinner dishes and spread the map out on the kitchen table. It was a map of the surrounding area, including the railways. One of the main lines was marked in red. So why was that interesting? Jigen tipped his hat back and followed the red marker line across the map. Wait -- there was a section of track off this line that went to the museum. Jigen went to his room and came back with a train timetable, one of those useful things he collected in any town they camped in. One of those things Lupin frequently needed but never remembered to get for himself. 

Jigen laid the train schedule by the map and ran his finger down the list of trains. There was one train going to the museum at 9:00 pm tonight and it wasn’t a passenger train. Ok, so Lupin was going to rob a train. Which probably meant it was carrying valuables to the museum. 

Jigen turned around and scanned the room again. So then why was there an assassin involved? This looked like a pretty routine heist. There shouldn’t be any assassins guarding museum delivery trains. Unless...Zenigata…? No, that was stupid. Jigen shook his head with a chuckle. Pops definitely didn’t qualify as an assassin and there’s no way he would hire one to guard the train. It was probably just something Lupin came up with to make him more interested.

Jigen wandered over to the couch and flopped down. There was nothing to worry about. It was all just a part of Lupin’s trick. The whole thing was bait. It would be routine as usual -- Lupin would get away with the goods, Goemon would thrash bad guys, Fujiko would drool over the treasure and Zenigata would turn up empty-handed. Jigen put his boots up on the coffee table and pulled a cigarette out of his coat pocket. As he shifted, something poked him in the back and he reached behind himself to grab a pen and a crumpled sheet of paper someone left between the couch cushions. Grumbling about Lupin’s habit to make a mess, Jigen unfolded the paper and froze. 

It was a newspaper clipping, about two years old, with an article about a diplomat who’d been shot by a mystery assassin as he was boarding a plane. There were several suspects in the case, but one name in the article was circled.

Jaina Sark. 

Alarm bells went off in Jigen's head. 

_It’s not often you go up against someone who’s actually trying to kill you._

Oh, hell.

If Jaina had done her research -- and she was the kind of girl who would -- then she’d find the name Daisuke Jigen attached to Lupin and she’d put two and two together pretty quick. Jigen didn’t know how the woman got involved, but he did know one thing. 

Lupin had no idea what he was getting himself into. 

Jigen slammed a fist into the coffee table, sending an ashtray full of cigarette butts tumbling to the floor. He growled and shook his hand. He swore he wasn’t getting involved in this one. And he didn’t have his gun. But he also couldn’t let Lupin go toe to toe with Jaina Sark by himself. Not even with Goemon at his side. 

Jigen swore under his breath. He knew Lupin was baiting him and he’d fully intended to let the ass play out his plan without showing up. But there was no way Lupin knew enough about Sark to bait Jigen this well. Which meant Lupin was heading into the lion’s den unprepared. Because there were a few elements to this equation that only Jigen knew.

 _Damn it!_ Even when he wasn’t trying, Lupin had Jigen wrapped around his finger. But he sure as hell wasn’t failing Lupin twice. Not if he had any say in the matter. 

Jigen swore again, ransacked the house for the car keys and his jacket, and was out the door before he could change his mind. 

He had a train to catch.

“Ready, Goemon?” Lupin asked. He leaned back against the railing of the bridge and lit a cigarette. Goemon stood atop the railing, perfectly balanced, arms folded and eyes closed. He nodded. In the distance, a train whistle sounded. Lupin glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes since Fujiko dropped them off. She should be in position now. And the train should be in sight at any moment.

Lupin swung up on the bridge railing to sit beside Goemon. “Nice night, huh?” he quipped, exhaling a long breath of smoke. 

“Mm-hm.” Goemon grunted. 

Lupin sighed, retort dying on his tongue. He’d almost forgotten Jigen wasn’t with them. He’d been expecting a quip about picking horrible spots for dates, or how fast did he figure a train would kill a man falling off a bridge. But with Goemon, he simply got answers. Which wasn’t bad, per se, but it was definitely...dull. 

“You’re worried.” Goemon interrupted his thoughts. 

“Huh?”

“You’re worried.” 

“I am not!” Lupin said with a bit more bluster than he would’ve liked. “I never worry.”

Goemon looked down at him with a knowing smile, cracking open one eye. “Jigen will come.” 

“I know that.” 

“Then why are you worried?” 

“I’m not worried.” 

Goemon opened both eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.” 

Lupin’s eyebrows shot up. “So are you.” 

“Yes, but I never claimed to be good at it.” Goemon flashed a smile, white teeth stark against the night. 

Lupin chuckled. “Can’t fault you there.” 

Just then, the train whistle sounded again and the train sped around a bend in the tracks, headlights illuminating the night. 

“I believe we’ve found our ride,” Goemon said. 

“Looks like it.” Lupin stood up, balancing on the rail beside Goemon. He snuffed his cigarette and tossed it over the bridge. The engine raced by underneath them and Lupin counted as the train flew by. 

“Four, five, six --”

“Now!” Goemon shouted and they jumped.

Lupin felt that heart-stopping moment of free-fall and then the train rushed up under him and he and Goemon landed lightly on the roof of the seventh car, rolling with the momentum. Lupin came to his hands and knees, the wind tugging at his clothes. He looked back to see Goemon kneeling right behind him. 

Lupin pointed down the length of the train and Goemon nodded. 

The train was ten cars long and the jewels were in the ninth car. From what Zenigata said, Jaina was posted in the tenth car. Zenigata had been unclear about where he’d be, but Lupin figured he’d either be in the car with the jewels, or maybe in the eighth car. Either way, he didn’t want to take chances with anyone hearing him and Goemon land on the roof. 

Lupin crept down the roof until they reached the eighth car. He paused, holding up a hand for Goemon to wait, then slipped down onto the walkway between the eighth and ninth car. Hanging onto the edge of the car, Lupin shimmied down the side of the ninth car until he could peer into one of the windows. Just as Zenigata said, there was a locked trunk in the middle of the dimly lit car. Otherwise, the car was empty except for a few other crates and boxes around the edge of the car. Lupin grinned and headed back up to the roof. 

Goemon met him with that familiar raised eyebrow. 

“Okay, here’s the deal,” Lupin said. “The trunk’s locked - big ol’ padlock on the front. Nobody in sight, just a nice, shiny bunch of jewels sitting in the open waiting for us to steal. Oh, and there’s a couple of big crates in there too.” 

“You think Zenigata is in one of the crates?” Goemon asked. 

Lupin winked. “You got it. So we’re gonna do a little surveillance of our own.” Lupin pulled two padlocks out of his pocket and passed one to Goemon. 

“You get that door, I’ll get this one,” Lupin said, pointing down between the eighth and ninth car. “Then we’ll see what’s what in there.” 

Goemon nodded and hopped the gap to the ninth car, running it’s length down to the tenth.

“And we all know you can’t do surveillance without a little privacy,” Lupin murmured as he slithered onto the walkway between car eight and nine. He slipped the padlock through the door handle of car eight and snapped it shut. “There,” he chuckled softly to himself. “That’ll keep Pops from calling any backup he stashed in the rest of the train. At least for a while.”

Lupin crawled back up onto the roof of the ninth car. Goemon joined him, giving him a thumbs up. 

“She in there?” Lupin asked as he pulled a length of rope from his backpack. Goemon would’ve looked. He was too thorough not to.

Goemon nodded. “That lock won’t hold her for long though,” he said. “There are six windows she can climb out of.” 

“I don’t need to stop her, just stall her,” Lupin grinned. “And Pops?” 

“I didn’t see any sign of him, but there were a couple of policemen with Sark.” 

“Then I bet we’re right about Zenigata.” Lupin pointed under his feet. “You wanna do the honors?”

Goemon nodded and unsheathed Zantetsuken. He made quick work of the roof and soon there was a Lupin-sized hole. Lupin lowered himself into the hole until he hung at arms’ length over the trunk. 

Goemon crouched over the hole in the roof, Zantetsuken in his right hand. “I’ll keep watch up here,” he said.

“Aw, you leaving me to fight Pops all by myself?” Lupin joked. 

“Pops won’t kill you,” Goemon said. “She might.” He gestured to the tenth car with Zantetsuken. 

Lupin nodded, suddenly sober, and let himself drop. 

This was too easy. 

Goemon couldn’t shake the feeling of foreboding as Lupin dropped into the train car, like someone had a gun pointed between his shoulder blades. He looked around. There was no one in sight. No sound other than the click-clack of the train rumbling over the tracks, the grunt of gears and the hiss of metal on metal. Modern transportation was too noisy. After all, if anything were to go wrong, how would they hear it over the noise of the train? 

He slid Zantetsuken an inch or two from its sheath. 

Up ahead, the train began a long turn.

Goemon swayed with the motion. 

Below him, Lupin crouched beside the trunk, eyes closed, the tip of his tongue sticking out of his mouth, long fingers spinning numbers on the padlock. In some ways, the crazy thief was like a swordsman, disciplined and precise. And in all the rest of the ways, Lupin was a loon. But a loon Goemon decided he could put up with. 

It was harder without Jigen though. 

Maybe that’s why he felt watched. Was he too used to having someone to watch his back? Before Lupin and Jigen, Goemon always worked alone. He needed nothing more than his blade and his skill. 

But he’d come to find he relied on Lupin and Jigen’s skill just as much as they did his. Without Jigen at his side, Goemon felt exposed. Had he gotten too comfortable with the gunman? 

He didn’t have time to finish that thought. The train whistle blew and Goemon looked up to see a tunnel looming over the tracks ahead. A tunnel that hadn’t been part of their carefully laid plans. He scowled. Something about this didn’t sit right. He looked back down.

“Lupin!” 

“Just a minute!” came the reply. 

“Tunnel!” 

Then the engine disappeared into the side of the mountain.

“Tunnel!” came Goemon’s shout above him. 

Lupin grit his teeth, fingers still spinning numbers, his other hand cupped around the lock to feel that subtle shift when the numbers fell into place. He had three of the four numbers down. Just one more. 

Lupin wasn’t about to steal an empty train car, and it would be just like Zenigata to pull a switch on them. He needed to see inside the trunk, to see the jewels for himself. Sure, this wasn’t part of the scripted plan, but Lupin would be damned if he was leaving this heist empty-handed. The most important thing was getting Jigen back, but secondarily, this was still a heist. And although Zenigata hadn’t made promises about the treasure either way, Lupin didn’t put it past the inspector to try and keep him from stealing it anyway. 

The last number clicked into place as they entered the tunnel Goemon warned him about. Darkness shrouded the car. 

Tunnel? 

That wasn’t in the plan. 

Lupin felt a chill run down his spine and shook himself like a dog dislodging water. Plans, shmlans. He didn’t operate according to plan most of the time anyway, so why should a minor detail bother him?

Because Pops was the one who came up with this plan. And he was nothing if not meticulous. He wouldn’t have left out a detail as glaringly obvious as a tunnel. 

Would he? 

No, this must all be part of Zenigata’s plan to keep Lupin on his toes. Of course Zenigata wouldn’t divulge all the details, even if he was working with Lupin on this one. Zenigata probably had some tricks up his sleeve to help lure Jigen in and a tunnel would be a great place for an ambush. 

And naturally, Pops wouldn’t tell him about an ambush beforehand because then it wouldn't be an ambush. 

Right. 

Now to check the trunk. 

With a grin, Lupin threw back the lid and yelped in surprise as Zenigata burst out of the trunk, pistol pointed right between Lupin’s eyes.

“Pops!” Lupin shouted, reaching into his jacket for his Walther. He cursed when he came up empty-handed. _Damn it!_ He didn’t have his Walther right now. He had Jigen’s magnum and it was tucked into his waistband, _damn it,_ not in the shoulder holster he usually carried his own gun in. 

“Did I scare you, Lupin?” Zenigata laughed. “You didn’t expect me to make it easy for you, did you?” he winked. 

“I...uh…” Lupin stammered. He sort of _had_ been planning on Pops taking it easy on this one. But he sort of also had been planning on Jigen showing up at this point. 

“Speechless, Lupin?”

Lupin slowly reached behind himself, trying to remember Jigen’s secret to a quick draw. 

“Hands where I can see ‘em!” Zenigata gestured with his pistol. 

Lupin slowly raised his hands over his head, stalling and hoping Goemon would look down right about now.

She came out of nowhere. Goemon didn’t even have a chance to react. 

Well, he did. 

But he reacted to the wrong thing. 

She was fast. A slight, lithe little thing wearing traditional ninja black. The only reason Goemon saw her was the flash of silver reflected off her blade as she rushed towards him. 

“Heads up, Lupin!” Goemon shouted.

Zantetsuken was in his hands as if by magic, the blade comfortable. Comforting. With Zantetsuken, he was unstoppable. 

Somewhere below him Lupin shouted, but that wasn’t important right now. 

Goemon’s eyes narrowed as she sped closer. She came at him without wavering, samurai sword pointed straight at him. A ninja wielding a katana. That should have been his first clue. 

But he didn’t have time to think about that as she swung at him. He brought Zantetsuken up in a lazy arc, confident smirk in place. She was quick, but he was quicker. Only he wasn’t. Goemon’s eyes widened in surprise when Zantetsuken slid through her sword like it wasn’t even there. In fact, it slid through _her_ too. And then she disappeared.

“What the…?” 

He felt the real presence behind him right before a knife slipped up between his ribs. Goemon grunted and put a hand to his side, but his attacker was already moving. Hot blood seeped between his fingers. He tried to turn to face the new threat, but staggered instead, falling clumsily to one knee. 

“Who…?” he gasped.

He dug Zantetsuken into the roof to keep his balance and looked down into the train car.

“Lupin!” he tried to shout, but coughed instead, blood spattering his lips.

And then she was in front of him, in the flesh, a tall, blonde woman with a pretty smirk. She kicked Zantetsuken out from under him, sending the sword clattering into the train car below. Goemon gasped and lurched forward, catching himself on the edge of the hole with his hand.

She stomped down on his fingers. Goemon shouted as his grip slipped and he fell headfirst through the roof. 


	6. Chapter Six

Jigen tore across the roads like a man possessed. He spread the map out on the steering wheel with his right hand, flashlight in his left, eyes following that red marker line as he steered with his knee. Beside him, the train tracks flashed by in the night, interspersed with telephone poles. Good thing it was late and there weren’t many cars out. He’d already narrowly avoided one accident and he knew he was speeding. But he had to get to Lupin before  _ she _ did. 

The map showed a side track right after a tunnel. Knowing Lupin, he’d most likely spilt the train at the side track, and let the engine and the rest of the cars go on to the museum as scheduled. Probably with a note on the last car explaining how he devilishly tricked the museum out of its treasure.

He could try to time the train and intercept it, but what the hell was he supposed to do against a speeding train with Lupin’s car? If he put the car on the tracks, he risked derailing the train. And killing everybody inside, Lupin and gang included. Not to mention that he’d never hear the end of it if he wrecked Lupin’s roadster. Besides, even if he did waste time to make the mathematical calculations to figure out where the train was, he had no way of knowing how accurate he’d be. If the train didn’t leave on time, or wasn’t traveling at the speed he expected, then his calculations would be garbage. 

A blaring horn jerked Jigen’s attention back to the road and he swerved just in time to avoid colliding with a car crossing an intersection. He heard the squeal of brakes and an angry driver yelling, but he didn’t stop. 

Without being able to pinpoint the train, Jigen’s best bet was to beat the train to the side rail and intercept Lupin there. And hope to all that was good in this world that Jaina waited to make her move until she was sure he was in her sights. 

With a lead foot and a couple of short cuts, he figured he just might do it. Jigen spared a last glance at the map, then put his foot to the floor and his eyes on the road. 

His first indication should’ve been the blood that dripped sticky-hot onto his upraised hands. He knew it was blood because it was thick, warm, even before he looked up to see it drip crimson across his palm. In the back of his mind, he realized Goemon shouted something and there were footsteps across the roof of the car. Two sets. A fight. 

His second indication was Zantetsuken. Goemon’s blade sliced the air between Lupin and Zenigata, missing them by inches. It hit the floor and stuck, quivering, between them. Zenigata and Lupin’s wide-eyed gazes met over the blade and they both looked up. 

A second later, Goemon fell through the roof like some bloody comet and crashed into Zenigata. 

Zenigata fell in a tangle of limbs and blood, shouting and spluttering. 

“Goemon!” Lupin shouted in surprise and lunged for his friend. 

And that’s when she swung down from the hole in the roof and kicked Lupin in the face. Lupin flew back, staggering into the wall of the train car, hand to his face as blood poured from his nose. He coughed and squinted, hand going for Jigen’s gun -- automatically this time. Waistband, not shoulder holster. How did Jigen do it so fast? 

“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” 

Lupin froze, feeling cold steel pressed against the side of his head. How the hell had she moved so fast? He cut her a glance from the corner of his eye. The woman who’d so rudely interrupted them -- Jaina Sark -- stood beside him, gun pressed firmly to his temple, finger on the trigger. She grabbed a fistful of Lupin's jacket. 

Lupin slowly raised his hands. 

On the other side of the car, Zenigata got himself back into some semblance of Order and Goemon crouched by his side, Zantetsuken in his hands again. But there was something wrong about the way the samurai canted to one side, left hand pressed to his ribcage. And then Lupin saw the glitter of a knife hilt between the folds of Goemon’s kimono and his eyes went wide for the second time in as many minutes. Sark stabbed Goemon!

“Wait!” Zenigata threw up a hand. “This isn’t what we - " he stopped suddenly, face going red. 

“Oh, it's alright, Inspector. I already know that you're the one who hired me." Sark said. "You really shouldn't call me from your desk phone at ICPO next time."

“Good grief, Pops,” Lupin muttered. 

Zenigata went beet red and tilted his head so the brim of his hat covered his eyes. 

"Does that mean you  _ don't  _ want this one dead?" Sark asked, giving Lupin a shake.

"I...uh...well…" Zenigata mumbled. 

Goemon was quiet during the exchange, staring at Sark with murder in his eyes. Lupin made a little hand signal at him to wait. Goemon scowled, but stilled, that pent-up action in his shoulders dissipating. Lupin allowed himself a small sigh of relief. While he had no doubt in Goemon’s skill, he also had no doubt in the speed of a bullet. This close, there was nothing Goemon could do before Sark blasted Lupin’s brains out. And, seeing as how his brains were, undoubtedly, his best feature, he’d rather keep them in his head. 

“I...you see...I couldn't let…” Zenigata stammered.

“Let him go!” Goemon interrupted. 

“Or what,  _ master _ samurai?” She spat  _ master _ like an insult.

Lupin caught Goemon’s shame only because he knew him so well -- that near-imperceptible sag in his shoulders, the tinge of red at the tips of his ears. But Goemon’s expression never wavered, those dark eyes never left Sark’s as he answered, “Or I swear to you I will chop you into so many pieces that even the wind won’t be able to find you.” 

Sark laughed, but it sounded forced. Her gun dropped a fraction of a millimeter. Lupin fought a smile. She was afraid of Goemon. Lupin’s smile faded as a cold weight dropped into his stomach. She hadn’t fought him on the roof long enough to get the full measure of his skill, so that meant she knew about him before this encounter. 

Which meant she’d prepared for him specifically. She knew what sort of threat Goemon posed. And she managed to craft an attack that caught him off-guard. There were very few people in this world who had ever managed to catch Goemon off-guard. Lupin gulped. 

“Don’t shoot!” Zenigata shouted. He pointed his gun at Sark. Lupin sighed. Pops just didn’t know when to quit. The man was honestly tenacious -- a horrible quality, really. Everyone knew when you got caught with your pants down you lied your way out of the situation like Fujiko shimmying out of tight jeans. But Pops, like Goemon, was too honest for his own good. At least Goemon knew when to stay silent and let Lupin or Jigen do the talking. Zenigata only knew how to barge in headfirst, tongue and gun wagging. 

This time Sark’s laugh was real. “Oh, Inspector, I’m not planning to kill him. Yet. I prefer to keep this one alive for a little while longer.” Sark backed toward the door, pulling Lupin with her by the back of his jacket. He didn’t resist. After all, this was what he’d wanted, right? Enough danger to kick Jigen’s lazy ass into gear? This wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but it was certainly dangerous. He glanced at the train car windows, hoping to see that rakish gray hat and slanted scowl, but all he could see was the black tunnel around them. 

Sark kicked the door open, still backing out. “I will expect that reward, Inspector,” she said. “But if you really are that worried about this one,” she gave Lupin a rough shake, “don’t follow me.” 

Goemon and Zenigata sprang at the same moment. If he wasn’t holding his hands over his head, Lupin would have facepalmed. 

As it was, Goemon didn't get far before his face twisted into an expression of pain and he fell to his knees, a hand pressed to his side. Zantetsuken skittered out of reach. 

“I said, don’t follow me!” Sark barked. She dug the gun further into Lupin’s temple. Lupin sucked a sharp breath through his teeth.

Zenigata froze, indecision clear on his features. Goemon groaned and slumped to the floor. 

Zenigata took a step forward.

Lupin felt Sark’s finger twitch. “Stop!” he shouted with such authority that Zenigata immediately assumed parade position, heels together, gun at his side. Lupin was pretty sure the twitch in his right hand was because he was holding back a salute. Even Sark paused. 

“Don’t worry about me, Pops.” Lupin gave him that cocky grin. “Take care of Goemon.” Lupin stared at Zenigata, willing every ounce of his intentions to get through that thick skull. “And say hi to Jigen for me.” 

Sark yanked Lupin out onto the platform between cars and slammed the door shut behind her. Then she shifted her gun from Lupin’s temple to his neck. He heard the hiss of air as a dart stung him. He managed to look over at Sark in surprise -- she’d been bluffing! -- and then the world tilted and everything went dark.

Fujiko sat on the roof of the rental car, feet propped on the switch box, smoking a cigarette and watching the stars. 

“Pull the lever, Fuji-cakes. I trust you, Fuji-cakes. It’s the most crucial moment of the night, Fuji-cakes,” she spat in a mocking imitation of Lupin’s voice. 

“Ugh.” She rolled her eyes. Of course Lupin would give her the least important part of the job. All she could do was sit here and wait until the train came. Meanwhile, Lupin and Goemon were duking it out with Zenigata and rolling in diamonds and other precious jewels. 

This was an outrage! Lupin put her here because he obviously didn’t trust her around the jewels. That’s what this was. This was Jigen rubbing off on Lupin when he  _ wasn’t even here! _ She would accept it if Jigen was here, spouting his poison in the flesh, but for Lupin to act on Jigen’s advice when it wasn’t even given? What was this world coming to? 

Fujiko took the cigarette out of her mouth and blew a stream of smoke into the night sky. 

Well, she’d just have to show Lupin. Zenigata mentioned several nice pieces in the collection being shipped to the museum tonight. Lupin certainly didn’t need all of them. He’d be fine with gifting her a few. And if he refused, she’d take them out from under his nose like she always did. 

The sound of a racing engine pulled Fujiko out of her thoughts. A car? Here? She pulled her pistol from its holster, holding it low by her leg, and snuffed her cigarette on the roof of the rental. 

Headlights burst on her vision as a car came charging up the access road. 

Cops? Was this part of Zenigata’s plan to stop them? Who else would be driving up the road that maniacally? 

The car slewed to a stop so hard it jerked sideways across the road, sliding to a standstill mere inches from her bumper. 

Wait! That was Lupin’s car! 

Then -- 

A tall, lanky figure in a dark suit jumped out, familiar grey hat pulled low over his eyes.

“Jigen!” Fujiko exclaimed, sliding her gun back into its holster. “Thank -- I mean, what are you doing here?” she stumbled over her words as Jigen stormed up to her.

He gave her a look from under his hat, a familiar look, eyes dark and that scowl he reserved just for her. Fujiko felt something in her stomach flutter. That was more like the Jigen she knew. 

“Where’s Lupin?” Jigen demanded. 

Fujiko pouted. That was definitely the Jigen she knew. Not even a ‘hey’ or a ‘how are you?’ before he got to the point.

“Nice to see you too, Jigen,” Fujiko muttered. 

He jerked her off the roof so fast she didn’t have time to resist. He pinned her to the car, one hand gripping the collar of her shirt, so close she was forced to look up to look him in the eye. So close that she smelled whiskey and cigarettes every time he exhaled. “I’m not playing games, Fujiko,” he snarled. 

Her eyes went wide. Although they fought all the time, Jigen never laid hands on her. Never. But that dangerous glint was back in his eye. Wild and unfamiliar. Reminiscent of the night he’d looked at her like a drowning man looking for a life preserver.

Fujiko’s hand automatically dropped to her side, for her gun, but Jigen pinned her arm with his other hand. Fujiko gasped. She wasn’t physically strong enough to break the gunman’s hold and he wasn’t lovesick enough to fall for her feminine wiles. She was trapped. And they both knew it.

“J-jigen.” Hearing herself stammer put steel back in her spine. She was Fujiko Mine, dammit, and she sure as hell was not about to let a scruffy good-for-nothing like Daisuke Jigen get the better of her. “Unhand me, oaf,” she seethed and the fire was back in her tone. 

“Where’s Lupin?” Jigen demanded. He didn’t let go. 

“On the train, where else?” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Why would I not --” 

“ARE YOU SURE?” He shook her. 

Fujiko froze. “Jigen, what’s going on?” 

For a moment, his expression softened and it wasn’t fire and madness in his eyes. It was...fear. Fujiko wasn’t sure which was worse. Because Jigen was never afraid. He’d seen and done it all at least twice and it took something very big and very mean to make Jigen run. She realized that his hand on her shirt was shaking. But his grip relaxed some and when he spoke again, his voice was calmer, though no less intense. 

“You need to tell me everything, Fujiko. And I mean  _ everything _ . From the beginning. Now.” 

Fujiko nodded and started talking. And for once, she didn’t lie. 

“That bastard,” Jigen growled when Fujiko finished explaining Lupin’s plans. Somewhere in the middle of the story, Jigen let go of Fujiko’s collar and now he stood with his hands on the car on either side of her. No longer pinning her, but effectively keeping her where he could see her. She’d have to duck out under his arms to get away and that would pretty much guarantee she was lying. But she didn’t try to slip away and she looked Jigen in the eye as she spoke. Much as he wanted to blame Fujiko for this mess, this time, he couldn't fault her. At least, not yet. 

“Maybe he wouldn’t be so much of a bastard if you weren’t such an ass,” Fujiko said. 

“I am not--” Jigen began heatedly, but his words were drowned in the whistle of the train.

Jigen and Fujiko both jolted like lightning struck them. Jigen whirled to see the train coming down the tracks towards them. Fujiko took the opportunity to slip the circle of his arms and position herself at the switch box. He let her.

“We need to wait until the ninth car,” she said. “Help me count.” 

For once, Jigen didn’t question her. He gave her a sharp nod and slipped a finger under the brim of his hat, tilting it back so he could see the train. The engine came rushing by, swirling dirt up and tossing back the edges of Jigen’s coat. 

Six...seven…

Jigen let his eyes skip ahead, searching for the gap in the cars that would let him know where Lupin split the train. But instead of a gap, he saw two figures standing on the platform between cars. One of them was waving wildly and shouting...and the other was slumped over, leaning heavily on the first figure. 

Jigen’s eyes widened.

“Fujiko! Don’t throw that switch!” Jigen shouted. Something was wrong. Whatever happened on that train, it wasn’t what Lupin planned. 

“What?” 

“Don’t throw the switch!” Jigen didn’t wait for an answer. He ran toward the train just as the two figures jumped. They hit the ground and rolled down the slope below the tracks. Jigen ran up just in time to recognize Zenigata and Goemon. 

“What the hell?” he muttered as he reached down to help Goemon to his feet. 

The samurai gasped as Jigen hauled him up. “Jigen, you came.” 

“You’re injured,” Jigen said. 

Goemon shook his head, but his lips were a tight line in his pale face. “It’s nothing. I’m fine.” 

“Don’t be stupid,” Zenigata said as he picked himself up and brushed himself off. “You’ve got a knife in your side.” 

“What?” Jigen’s hands were immediately on Goemon’s bloodied side, his surprise at seeing Pops overridden by his concern for Goemon. 

He found the knife as Geomon weakly tried to push him off. 

“Don’t pull it out,” Zenigata said. “Not until we can get him someplace we can stitch him up.” 

“I know that,” Jigen growled. 

Just then Fujiko ran up to them. “Pops!” Her eyes widened as she took in Zenigata and Goemon, flitting over both of them and then behind them, around them, expression turning to concern as she didn’t see who she was looking for. “Where’s Lupin?” she asked slowly. 

Zenigata cleared his throat and looked pointedly at Jigen. 

“It’s alright, he knows,” Fujiko said. 

“Well, in that case…” Zenigata ducked his head and fiddled with the brim of his hat, pulling it lower over his face. “Lupin’s been kidnapped.” 


	7. Chapter Seven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know 'old boy' is a very English saying, but somehow, I just thought it fit Zenigata ;)

“Do you really think this was a good idea, bringing Pops here?” Fujiko demanded, hands on her hips. 

“Look, Fujiko, what did you want me to do, huh?” Jigen snapped. He knelt in the bathroom floor at the safehouse, pulling bandages and other medical supplies out of the cabinet under the sink. Since they left the train tracks, Fujiko had done nothing but question him. Jigen usually considered himself a patient guy, but tonight he was on his last nerve. Goemon was hurt, Lupin was kidnapped, Zenigata was sitting in their living room, he was trying not to get involved (bit late for that), and Fujiko had the nerve to demand answers.

“I don’t know...maybe _leave him behind_.” Fujiko crossed her arms and leaned on the doorframe. 

“It’s a little difficult to drive and keep your friend from bleeding out at the same time." Jigen opened the first aid kit and cursed under his breath.

“You could’ve just left the rental car. I would’ve helped Goemon,” Fujiko said. 

“And leave all of Lupin’s stuff sitting by the train tracks?” Jigen’s voice came muffled from under the sink where he was rummaging in the back of the cabinet. “I saw you guys pack that car. There was valuable equipment in there.” 

Fujiko sighed. 

“Besides, Pops knows what happened to Lupin.” Jigen slid out of the cabinet with a scowl.

"Goemon knows what happened to Lupin," Fujiko said.

"Goemon has a knife stuck in his gut. We're going to need the able body." Jigen pulled open drawers, rummaging through toothpaste, toothbrushes, somebody's comb. 

"You think we can't do this ourselves?" Fujiko sounded incredulous. 

"Just you and me?" Jigen tilted his hat back so she could see his smirk. "No offense, babe, but we're not known for our compatibility." 

Fujiko huffed but she didn't deny it. 

"That, and I want to ask Pops what he knows about that chick he hired." Jigen pulled out another drawer and started pawing through bottles of nail polish. 

“Hey! Careful with those!” Fujiko slapped his hand away. “What are you looking for anyway?” 

“Needle,” Jigen said through gritted teeth, trying very hard not to lash out at Fujiko. “Thread.” 

“Oh, I’ve got those, silly,” she said. 

“Then what are you waiting for?!” Jigen roared. “Go get them!” 

Fujiko skittered out of the bathroom with a squeak. Jigen sighed and stared up at the ceiling for a moment before grabbing the bandages and first aid kit and heading back into the living room. He didn’t know how Lupin put up with that woman day in and day out.

Zenigata wasn’t on the couch where Jigen left him. Surprisingly, he was kneeling on the kitchen floor in front of Goemon, trench coat and jacket off, sleeves rolled up to the elbow. Goemon, stubborn fool that he was, insisted on sitting in the kitchen so he wouldn’t get blood on the couch. Who even cared about bloody blood anyway? Between him and Lupin, Jigen was pretty sure every inch of furniture in this house had been covered in blood (or something equally as undesirable) at one point or another. Leave it to Goemon to think about the furniture while he was bleeding out. 

Zenigata turned as Jigen walked up and pulled the first aid kit out of his hands like it was his job. “I’m going to need a needle and thread,” he said. 

“I know that,” Jigen snapped yet again. 

Zenigata paused for a second, a stunned look on his face. 

Jigen sighed. “Look, Pops, it’s weird enough having you here as it is.” Jigen pinched the bridge of his nose. “On top of that, you’re trying to _help_ us? No offense or anything, but since when did you become a field surgeon?” 

“Part of the job,” Zenigata said gruffly. “Officers go down in the field, you gotta know how to save their lives. It’s not the first time I’ve dealt with knife wounds.” 

“Oh,” Jigen said quietly. Because that made Pops a literal field surgeon. The fact that Zenigata must’ve seen many injured men in his time had never occurred to Jigen. If he thought about it, Zenigata had probably saved men's lives and sat with them while they died. “Hell, Pops, I --” 

“I trust him,” Goemon said softly.

“I...uh,” Jigen tipped his hat back and breathed out. “Alright. What do you need, Pops?” 

Just then Fujiko came running downstairs holding a small sewing kit in her hand. “I’ve got the needle and thread!” 

Zenigata nodded, expression all business again. “Get me boiling water and some whiskey.” 

“Right.” Jigen grabbed a pot off the stove and filled it with water. “You don’t want Goemon to drink the whiskey by any chance, do you?” he asked as he put the pot on the stove and flipped the eye to high. 

“I figured he’d want something to numb the pain. Why?” Zenigata asked. 

Goemon scowled, but he didn’t protest. Of course he didn’t. Goemon was too quiet about these kinds of things. Of all the team members, Goemon was the first Jigen tended to when he was injured. Although he had plenty of medical skills himself, Goemon would quietly lay down and die before he inconvenienced anybody else with his problems. Even if those problems were a damn knife in his side. He wasn’t going to admit it, but Jigen was glad he had Pop’s help on this one. 

Jigen sighed. “Because our esteemed samurai only drinks sake. Which he won’t tell you.” Jigen spared a glower for Goemon. 

Goemon gave him a grimace. 

“In the meantime, here,” Jigen pulled a bullet out of his pocket. “Fujiko, hold that between Goemon’s teeth. And watch your fingers.” Jigen dropped the bullet into a stunned Fujiko’s hand. “I’ll go find some sake.” 

“Between his teeth? What for?” 

“Better he bites that than his tongue. And don’t let him swallow it,” Jigen warned. 

“The bullet or his tongue?” Fujiko asked, a futile attempt at levity. 

“Either.” 

Fujiko went a little pale. “R-right.” She knelt on the floor beside Goemon and put the bullet in between his teeth. Goemon didn’t protest. He bit down gently and blushed as his lips brushed Fujiko’s fingers. Jigen smirked under his hat as he went to the room he shared with Goemon. Only Goemon would blush in a situation like this.

_Steady, old boy, you’ve done this before. Nothing new. Nothing new._

Zenigata pulled back the sleeve of Goemon’s kimono, sliding the material off his shoulder. Goemon sat still, back ramrod straight, cross-legged as if he were doing nothing more than meditating. His eyes were closed. Save for the blood and Fujko holding a bullet between his teeth, Zenigata would be hard pressed to say that anything was even wrong.

Once he got Goemon’s kimono out of the way, he took his first proper look at the wound. All things told, it could have been worse. The knife went in clean and there were only a few tattered bits of Goemon’s kimono in the wound. Luckily, it didn’t look like the knife had done too much internal damage, but then again, that was risky business diagnosing anything like that without an x-ray. Still, Zenigata supposed that Lupin and his gang had been patching each other up without such modern comforts as x-rays, doctors, and hospitals for years. Which was probably why Jigen drove them back here and not somewhere more medically equipped. 

If Zenigata weren’t so focused on Goemon, he’d be impressed by Lupin’s hideout. He’d overlooked this one for years -- just a little country cottage on the edge of the woods, out of sight and out of mind. It could’ve been anybody’s vacation house. Go figure.

But even more surprising was the fact that Zenigata was _in_ the hideout with Lupin's gang. What was he doing here anyway? Why had he followed the thieves instead of arresting them on the spot? 

He told himself it was because Goemon was injured and he couldn't bring himself to arrest an injured man -- at least, not without treatment first. 

Besides, if he arrested the gang now, his chances of finding Lupin decreased dramatically. Not to mention the chances of keeping his promise to Lupin. And it was sort of his fault Lupin got kidnapped in the first place. So it was sort of his job to see about rescuing him. Only so he could arrest him, of course. 

Goemon winced and drew Zenigata out of his thoughts. 

Zenigata sighed and put a hand on the knife hilt, his other hand grasping the folded sheet Jigen had procured for him. 

“Ready?” he asked. 

Goemon nodded, eyes still closed. 

Fujiko looked away. 

Zenigata pulled. Quick and efficient, just like he’d do anything else. The knife was out, and the sheet held to Goemon’s side. 

Goemon growled low in his throat. A sound Zenigata suspected would have been a scream had the samurai been surrounded only by his friends. Goemon’s discipline didn’t allow him to show weakness, especially to strangers and enemies. Even so, he bit down hard on the bullet in his mouth, eyes screwed shut, sweat beading on his face. 

Just then, Jigen walked back in, holding a white ceramic bottle in one hand. He surveyed the scene with his typical scowl. 

“Boil the needle,” Zenigata directed, taking on his cop-in-charge voice. 

To his surprise, Jigen set the bottle down and did what he asked without arguing. Everything about this night was surreal. The fact that he was helping Lupin, the fact that he was sitting in the middle of Lupin’s hideout, that he was patching up Lupin’s friend -- and that Lupin wasn’t even here. When he’d witnessed the team without Jigen, they were directionless, loose, uncontrolled. Now, without Lupin, they were downright listless, almost tame. Funny, how just one person out of place made the rest fall apart. He guessed that’s what came from living so close together for so long. Lupin’s gang wasn’t just a team anymore, they were family.

Zenigata felt something almost like a tear at the corner of his eye and he roughly brushed it away as Jigen handed him the clean needle, already threaded (a surprisingly domestic gesture from the gunman). Jigen knelt on the floor beside Goemon, gently shoving Fujiko out of the way and collecting his bullet. He reached up and handed Goemon the bottle, helping him hold it steady as Goemon took a long draught of what must've been the sake Jigen referenced earlier. 

When the worst of the bleeding stopped, Zenigata instructed Goemon to lie down. Fujiko offered him her lap because Goemon still refused to move to a bed or a couch. The samurai instantly blushed and shook his head. After a lot of convincing, a lot more sake, and a few threats from Jigen and Zenigata, they finally got the samurai stretched full length on the floor, head in Fujiko’s lap, although he still turned beet red.

“And that’s a whole bottle of sake, too,” Jigen said, from where he sat cross-legged against the kitchen cabinets. He tilted the bottle up to demonstrate. 

Over Goemon’s head, Fujiko rolled her eyes. The man was as stiff as a bored. She wasn’t that bad, was she? Fujiko ran her fingers through Goemon’s hair. She didn’t think it was possible, but he went even stiffer at her touch. “Relax, Goemon,” she said. “I’m not going to hurt you.” 

He glared up at her like he wanted to argue, but couldn’t find the words for it. Fujiko hummed softly and continued to comb through the samurai’s hair, gathering it into her hand at the base of his neck. Jigen watched the scene with an amused grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. Once Goemon settled, Jigen flicked the bullet back at Fujiko. She caught it and laid it against Goemon’s lips, but he shook his head. 

Zenigata watched the whole interaction half-surprised, half-amused. Despite the oddity of it all, the three thieves were so familiar with each other that they didn’t need words for half of what they did, just sliding in and out of each other's space like a rehearsed dance. It was almost impressive.

 _Get ahold of yourself, Zenigata._ _You can’t admire these guys. They’re the enemy._

Zenigata shook himself and brought his attention back to the task at hand.

Pops was surprisingly proficient with a needle, Fujiko thought. She watched with morbid curiosity as Zenigata stitched Goemon’s side closed. The samurai lay in her lap, stiff, unnatural, blushing. Not at all like Lupin laid in her lap, loose, fluid, a graceful tangle so sure of himself -- so full of himself. There was something almost...sweet...about Goemon’s naivety and discipline, even in the face of injury. 

Goemon stiffened as the needle slid through flesh and Fujiko combed out his hair again. Small comfort, she supposed, but it seemed to distract him a little and some of the ramrod stiffness left his shoulders. His eyes were closed, his breathing fast, sharp, in time with Zenigata’s neat stitches. 

Beside her, Jigen sat against the kitchen cabinets, hat tilted over his face again, and yet, Fujiko had no doubt that he was watching the entire thing, eagle eyed as always. He still held the empty sake bottle in one hand, his grip on the neck white-knuckled. His earlier grin at Goemon’s discomfort was gone, and his mouth was haunted by that grim tightness that meant Jigen was deep in thought. But what was he thinking about? 

Was he blaming himself for Goemon’s injury? 

Was he chalking it up to another failure on his part? 

Fujiko didn’t think so. Jigen wasn’t being nearly belligerent enough for that. When the gunman felt guilty, he got testy, edgy, like a cat walking too close to a bathtub full of water. Most of the time, Fujiko enjoyed being the external force that dunked him under, knowing that Lupin would protect her from Jigen’s ire. And knowing that Jigen’s bark was always worse than his bite. But this time, he was more melancholy than anything else. And Fujiko couldn’t forget that fear she saw in his eyes at the train tracks. She resolved to ask him about it later.

Zenigata finished stitching Goemon’s side in a few minutes and broke the thread with his teeth, tying it off. Fujiko almost giggled at the strangeness of it all. Lupin was gone, Goemon was lying in her lap, Zenigata was sitting in their safe house, but she held back the laugh. Everything about this whole scenario was crazy. She didn’t want to add to the absurdity. 

Zenigata sat back and stretched. “I think he’s out of the worst of it now,” he said. He packed the unused supplies back in the first aid kit. 

Fujiko looked down at Goemon, who appeared to be sleeping now -- or perhaps he’d passed out. But his breathing was regular and he looked peaceful, so she didn’t disturb him. 

“Is there somewhere I can...uh...clean up?” Zenigata asked. 

Jigen pointed across the living room at the bathroom door. 

“Right. Thanks.” Zenigata got up and went to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. A moment later, Fujiko heard the water running. 

“Well, this is weird,” she said. 

“Hm?” Jigen sounded distracted, like he wasn’t listening. 

“This is weird,” she repeated. 

“Yeah,” Jigen agreed. 

“Ok, now you’re creeping me out. You just agreed with me.” 

“Did I?” 

“You did,” Fujiko confirmed, feeling her stomach sink a little. This was that side of Jigen she didn’t know how to deal with again. And this time, she had nowhere to run. She’d have to sit here in silence or question Jigen directly. Fujiko decided on the latter. “What’s on your mind?” she asked. 

Jigen didn’t answer for so long, Fujiko figured she’d just have to sit in interminable silence -- because Goemon certainly wasn’t going to prove a talkative conversation partner right now. 

“A woman,” Jigen finally said. 

Fujiko’s eyes widened. “Did I hear you right?” 

“I don’t know, what did you hear?” 

“I could’ve sworn you said, ‘a woman’ just now.” 

“Is that so surprising if I did?” there was no anger in his tone. Just a question. 

“Uh. Yeah. Coming from Jigen the misogynist? Jigen the doesn’t look sideways at a woman in case she double crosses him? Jigen the --”

“Shut up.” 

Fujiko stopped. “Why a woman?” 

“Because, contrary to popular belief, I don’t hate all women,” Jigen said as he pushed himself off the floor. He set the empty sake bottle on the counter and traded it for a whiskey bottle from the cabinet over his head. He uncorked the bottle and took a swig. “Just the ones who stab me in the back. Turns out, that’s most of ‘em. Even the ones I’ve loved.” 

It was Fujiko’s turn to be silent. After all, she wasn’t sure how to answer that one. She wasn’t the sentimental type, and while she did admit to feeling a certain loyalty to Lupin, she also didn’t have a problem turning the tables on him when it worked out in her favor. And while she felt some camaraderie with Goemon and Jigen, that was as far as the feeling went. For all their familiarity, she realized she didn’t actually know that much about Lupin’s partners. Which meant when Jigen or Goemon confessed to feeling something for a woman, Fujiko never knew how to react. 

“I’m going out for a smoke,” Jigen said. “Get me if anything changes.” He motioned at Goemon with the whiskey bottle and walked out onto the porch, closing the french door behind him. 

Fujiko could see him silhouetted on the porch, the brief flare of his lighter as he lit his cigarette. He distanced himself on purpose. Jigen could’ve smoked right there in the kitchen. But Fujiko had touched a raw nerve, one that Jigen didn’t want to talk about. And it had something to do with the woman Zenigata hired. The woman who kidnapped Lupin. The woman named Jaina Sark.

Jigen knew something he wasn’t telling. 

And Fujiko wasn’t getting any answers. Not while she was stuck here with Goemon, anyway. Fujiko let her fingers stray to Goemon’s hair again, sliding through the surprisingly soft locks. It wasn’t something she could do with Lupin’s short hair. She knew Goemon would die of embarrassment if he were privy to her thoughts and she would never admit it, but there was something comforting in the gesture.

Well, if she was going to have to wait, she might as well get comfortable and do what she did best -- plot her next move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for scenes of the team in more domestic settings (especially when they get to show some of their affection for each other). Nothing beats the excitement of a heist, but some of my favorite moments are when you see the team "behind-the-scenes." Plus, I couldn't resist a chance to embarrass Goemon ;)


	8. Chapter Eight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through a LOT of revision. So much cutting and pasting but I think I finally got it to a spot where I'm proud of it ;) Comments are appreciated on this one (especially if something's not working) and, as always, thanks for reading!

Lupin woke up in handcuffs. Which wasn’t that unusual or concerning actually. It came with the territory. What concerned him was that he could slip the cuffs anytime. Given that Sark was thorough and quick enough to deceive Goemon, he had to conclude that she probably knew about his habits as well. If she did, that meant the handcuffs weren’t the real security measure -- they were just for show. She was playing mind games with him. 

Sark seemed to know a lot about him and Goemon. And even Zenigata. If that was the case, Lupin had to assume she studied up on him and his gang, because he didn’t remember ever meeting the woman before. (And he was pretty sure he'd remember a striking woman like Jaina Sark.) So, her grudge wasn’t against him directly then. Perhaps she wanted revenge for a heist that impacted her without his knowledge. Maybe he’d stolen her inheritance or robbed someone she loved. 

The other possibility was that she wasn’t after him at all, but one of his gang and he was the leverage. He didn’t think it was Goemon. Goemon might turn into a stuttering fool around every woman who gave him more than a passing glance, but he was polite and courteous. He’d never given a woman reason to hate him that Lupin knew of. And he could rule out Fujiko with pretty much the same confidence. While Fujiko had ripped off every man from here to Timbuktu, her list of female enemies was significantly smaller. 

That left Jigen. Of course it did. Jigen had more history than the rest of the team combined. His past was speckled with angry assassins, jilted mob bosses, lost lovers, and a lot more revenge than Lupin figured anybody should have to deal with. Most of the time, Jigen’s past left him alone, and he left it alone. But when it did crop up, it didn’t do anything half-assed. Jigen’s past was spectacularly good at sucker punches to the gut. 

So, was Sark a former partner or a former lover? Both were possible. Zenigata mentioned she had mob ties and she was the right kind of pretty to have been a lover. Hell, she was still the right kind of pretty to be a lover. The fact that she'd kidnapped him was a little deterring. That, and Lupin had a rule about dating his comrade’s exes. 

The real question was, what exactly was she after Jigen for?

Lupin sighed. Between his overactive imagination and Jigen’s checkered past, Lupin could fabricate untold reasons why someone might want revenge on his partner. Usually, this would be the part where Jigen would offer up exactly how he knew their enemy, or Lupin would ply him with questions until he did, but that required Jigen’s presence. And this time, Lupin didn’t even have that luxury left to him.

Lupin scowled. He shouldn’t have left so much up to Pops. Zenigata didn’t have a contingency plan, which meant Lupin didn’t have one right now either. He had no way of knowing whether his plan to kick Jigen out of his funk worked. Which meant he wasn't sure if he should fly this coop yet or not. If there was one thing Lupin hated most, it was being left in the dark. Might as well find out as much as he could about his surroundings while he waited.

Lupin stretched experimentally. He was lying on the floor of a dark room, with just enough moonlight filtering through the window to show him that the room was empty. He wasn’t tied to anything, he had all his clothes, and from the feel of the pen jabbing into his hip, he still had the contents of his pockets. 

Which was somewhat unusual for a kidnapping. 

It was another way for Sark to hold her confidence over his head. The only thing he didn’t have on him anymore was Jigen’s magnum and that was confirmed by a quick twitch of his hands, which were bound behind him. 

So she was cautious enough to take obvious weapons. 

Jigen was going to kill him if he let Sark keep that gun. At this rate, Jigen was going to kill him anyway. At least if Jigen killed him, Pops couldn’t arrest him. 

Lupin chuckled at the thought of Pops trying to arrest his corpse. Jigen would fight him over it, of course. And Pops would probably try to arrest Jigen for interfering with a police investigation. 

Which, if he thought about it, was yet another thing to add to the list of reasons why Jigen might want to kill him. Because Jigen definitely wouldn't see the point of Lupin’s promise to allow Pops to arrest him at the end of this whole adventure. Matter of fact, he hadn’t mentioned that to Fujiko or Goemon either. 

He was going to have a lot of explaining to do when he got out of here. Wherever ‘here’ was.

The click of the door opening dragged Lupin back to reality. A light flipped on and he blinked a few times as his eyes adjusted. Jaina Sark walked in, all long legs and casual grace and leaned against the wall beside the door. Up close, Lupin noticed that she was missing the first two fingers on her right hand. How did a pretty girl like her end up missing fingers? Mob ties, Lupin supposed. 

“Good. You’re awake,” she said by way of greeting. 

“Hi, gorgeous,” Lupin levered himself up so that he was sitting cross-legged in front of Jaina. He gave her a charming grin. “Funny meeting you here.” 

“Shut up, Lupin.” 

“Aw, that’s no way to greet me.” 

“Then how about this?” Jaina pulled a gun -- left-handed -- and pointed it at Lupin’s face. Lupin swallowed. Because this time the gun was real. He’d recognize that magnum anywhere.

“I think I liked the first one better,” he said. 

Jaina continued like he hadn’t spoken. “The man who owns this gun -- Daisuke Jigen. Where is he?” 

Well, at least one of his guesses was right. “What makes you think I know that?” he asked innocently.

“Don’t lie to me, Lupin. I've studied you for years now. Turns out, you're a hard man to find. But I know Jigen is your partner. I know that the two of you are inseparable.”

“We seem pretty separated now. You saw everybody at the train. You know Jigen wasn’t with us. He quit.” Lupin decided not to be surprised that Jaina basically admitted to stalking him -- or, more accurately, Jigen through him. Zenigata wasn’t the only one who followed him obsessively.

“Don’t lie.” Jaina thrust the gun closer to his face. 

Lupin went cross-eyed looking at it. 

“I know Jigen didn’t leave your team. And I know I wasn’t really hired to kill you. Zenigata was too free with information when he contacted me. And too open. You can read the man like a book --” 

“Ain’t that the truth,” Lupin muttered.

Jaina glared at him. 

“I know Jigen is loyal to you, though I can’t fathom why that traitor suddenly regained a sense of loyalty.” 

“Traitor?” Lupin shifted, tilting his head. He felt the pen in his pocket slide towards the floor. There were a lot of things he’d describe Jigen as, but traitor was definitely not one of them.

“Oh? He hasn’t told you? About his exploits before he joined you?” 

Lupin shrugged. “Just bits here and there. I’m not really into background checks.” 

“And I bet he never mentioned me.” 

“Nah. But don’t feel special or anything. Jigen doesn’t mention any women.”

“Unlike you, I suppose?” Jaina raised an eyebrow. 

“Me? I’ll say whatever you want to hear, sweetheart,” Lupin laughed, and canted to one side, covering the _clack_ of his pen striking the floor as it slipped out of his pocket. 

“I want to know where Jigen is.” Jaina narrowed her eyes.

“Except that,” Lupin’s tone was steely. He slowly reached behind himself until his fingers brushed the pen.

Jaina’s brows drew together in that expression Lupin had seen on Fujiko all too many times, the one that meant he was vexing her and she wasn’t having it. “Why are you protecting him?” she demanded. 

“Why not? Jigen’s my best friend. I’m certainly not going to sell him out just because someone’s pointing a gun at my face.” Lupin scooped the pen into his right hand. 

“You’re too fearless for your own good.” 

“So I’ve been told,” Lupin grinned. “But I’m afraid I’m also too fearless to sit around here and wait for you to decide my fate!” Lupin slipped the cuffs at the last word and was on his feet, tossing the pen at Jaina. He flicked a button on the end of the pen as he threw it, which triggered a small explosive device hidden in the cap. The pen exploded on Jaina, splattering her face with blue ink. She instinctively closed her eyes with a surprised shout. Lupin twisted Jigen’s gun out of her hand.

No good running if she was going to shoot him on the way out. And no good escaping if he didn’t have Jigen’s magnum. 

Lupin flung open the door beside Jaina and sprinted into a hallway. There were doors on either side of the hall, and an intersection at the end. Lupin didn’t take the time to try any of the doors. He got about halfway down the hall when he heard Jaina shout his name. He didn’t stop to look. A second later, he heard a slight whistle and then something tangled up his legs and struck him in the shins. Lupin yelped as he tripped over his own feet and crashed to the ground, legs wrapped up in a bolas. 

He flipped over onto his back, propping himself up on one elbow as Jaina stepped through the open door and walked towards him. Her eyes shone bright and angry in her ink-stained face. Lupin pointed Jigen’s magnum at her.

She held out her arms. “Are you going to shoot me now, Lupin?” she grinned. 

He cocked the hammer. 

“You know you want to.” 

His finger tightened against the trigger. 

Jaina kept walking, slow, confident.

Lupin scowled. 

Jaina smirked. 

“Can’t do it, can you?” She stopped by Lupin’s feet. 

Lupin tensed, then lowered the gun and let himself drop to the ground with a sigh. He stared up at the ceiling. She was right. He couldn’t do it. Not in cold blood.

Jaina clapped her hands and several men in dark suits walked into the hallway, pointing machine guns at Lupin. Lupin froze, wide-eyed.

“This was all a test, wasn’t it?” he asked, raising his head to look at Jaina.

“You should have shot me when you had the chance.” Jaina walked up and plucked Jigen’s magnum from his hand. “You’re just like him,” she said. “Too cowardly to shoot a woman.” 

“I make it a point not to shoot women or children,” Lupin said. 

“I know. Jigen wouldn't take up with anyone who didn’t.” 

Jaina motioned again and two men stepped forward and grabbed Lupin by the arms. They hauled him roughly to his feet and held him. Lupin didn’t resist. Not yet. Not in such a small space surrounded by so many guns. He still had a few tricks up his sleeves, but it wasn’t worth getting killed just to be flashy. 

“Now, I want answers,” Jaina said. 

“I’ve already told you, I’m not selling out Jigen.” 

“Search him,” Jaina instructed. “Then tie him up. And _be thorough_. The man can escape anything.” 

Lupin grunted as his arms were wrenched behind him and one of the men pulled out a length of rope. A third man stepped up and frisked him, tossing his belongings on the floor -- his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, a scrap of paper, his watch, a length of wire, a couple of bullets for Jigen’s magnum. They even pulled off his jacket and tie and took his shoulder holster, although it was empty.

“Why are you keeping me here?” Lupin demanded, as the men began tying him up. He was pretty sure he knew the answer, but it was always better to get the bad guy to spill and confirm it. “Do you think holding me hostage will resolve your quarrel with Jigen?”

“Hardly.” Jaina snorted. “You flatter yourself, Lupin,” she said. “You aren’t the solution to my problem. You’re merely a means to an end. I'm done catering to Jigen. This time, we're playing on my terms. And it's going to hurt.” 

Jaina’s tone was haughty, disapproving, as though she were a parent explaining something to a particularly dense child. Lupin refrained from rolling his eyes. It was a tone he heard often enough -- from everyone who mistook his childish antics for incompetence. If Jaina thought he was stupid, he wasn’t going to bother correcting her. 

“Now,” Jaina continued, “you can either tell me where Jigen is, or you can resist and I'll drag the answer out of you.”

“Torture away,” Lupin said, sticking his chin out. “I’m not afraid of death and Jigen won’t come after a corpse. All I have to do is stay quiet.” Lupin tried to ignore the icy finger of doubt trailing down his spine as he felt the ropes around his arms and wrists tighten. He was bluffing on all sides, but he kept a steely gaze and a straight face. 

“I thought I asked you not to lie to me.” Jaina frowned. “Jigen will come after you dead or alive. For some reason he’s attached himself to you for now. And that means he’ll follow you to the ends of the earth with that same dogged determination that he followed --” Jaina cut herself off angrily and took a deep breath. 

Lupin watched the anger smoldering in her eyes, a flame waiting for a spark. So, revenge then. Jigen wronged her in the past. On purpose? Knowing Jigen, Lupin didn’t think so and knowing Jaina, he figured she’d tell him, given enough time. Which meant he couldn’t escape and he couldn’t cooperate with her. He had to get her upset enough to reveal her plan. And wait for Jigen to come to the rescue. 

Lupin felt that cold finger on his spine again as the ropes were tightened once more, cutting into his wrists and chest. _If_ Jigen came to the rescue. No...surely the others told Jigen what happened by now. Jigen wouldn't -- couldn't -- ignore him now. The gunman had more compassion hidden under that surly scowl that anybody Lupin knew. And if his current plight _still_ didn't warm Jigen's heart, then surely Goemon would kick Jigen's sorry butt into gear and mount a rescue. At the very least, Pops wouldn’t let Lupin rot in Jaina's clutches.

Lupin blinked and brought himself back to the present. Jaina was speaking again. 

“You say you’re not afraid of death, hm? Then let’s find out just what you are afraid of, Arsène Lupin.” 

Jaina walked up to Lupin and put a hand on his face. He jerked back. She smiled. “We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. If you tell me where Jigen is, I’ll send a ransom note right now and guarantee your safety. Or, we'll play games until you scream or my men trail Zenigata and your samurai friend back to Jigen -- whichever comes first. But the longer we wait, the more I rough you up. What do you say, Lupin, shall we try this again?”

Lupin scowled and gave Jaina his best game face. She wanted to try to outlast him? Alright, he’d play. And she’d find out he was a tough nut to crack. Especially where Jigen was concerned. He just hoped Jigen got here sooner rather than later.

Jaina smirked. “So, tell me, Lupin the third, where will I find Daisuke Jigen?” 

As it turned out, Daisuke Jigen was standing toe to toe with Goemon Ishikawa in the living room at the safe house. It was the morning after the fiasco at the train and there were more than a few dark circles under everyone’s eyes. Though no one voiced it, they all knew it. No one slept well last night. They were all on edge, irritable. And that went double for Jigen who had already been on edge. Maybe that was what started Jigen and Goemon’s argument.

The two were glaring at each other, hackles raised. Goemon drew himself up to his full height, ignoring the twinge in his side when he did. He was just shy of the top of Jigen’s head -- nearly the same height because Jigen wasn’t wearing his hat again. Which meant the world was still off balance. Or maybe that was the hitch in his side throwing Goemon off. But he certainly wasn’t about to admit that. Not now. Not to a hatless Jigen. 

Jigen glared at Goemon from under the fringe of his bangs. “Who gave you permission to be up, samurai?” 

Goemon fought to keep the twitch at the corner of his mouth from becoming a smirk. Jigen only called him samurai when he was annoyed. Right now, he was downright pissed. And Goemon was determined to get to the bottom of it. But the only way to do that was to needle Jigen until he got angry enough to spout off what was really on his mind. Goemon had to hand it to the gunman. For a man with no formal training, he could be very disciplined when he wanted. 

“Do I need permission to walk around my own house?” Goemon asked innocently. 

“Technically, it’s Lupin’s house…” Fujiko said from where she sat watching the exchange at the kitchen table. 

“Shut up, Fujiko!” Goemon and Jigen both shouted. 

Fujiko shrank a little in her seat. 

Zenigata winced and tried to look unobtrusive as he smoked a cigarette in Lupin’s favorite armchair. 

“You need permission when you’ve got a damn knife wound in your side!” Jigen said, right back to their discussion. 

“I don’t recall any of us needing “permission” to do anything, Jigen.” 

Jigen was quiet for a minute, muscles in his jaw working in that way they did when he was trying to find a comeback. Because really, Goemon was right. There wasn’t any hierarchy in the group, even if they did naturally gravitate to Lupin. There were no repercussions for doing your own thing.

“You should be resting, not walking around!” Jigen finally spat. “Which means lying in bed and letting that knife wound heal, in case you don’t understand the concept.” 

“Samurai don’t rest,” Goemon said simply. 

“This samurai will if he doesn’t want a bullet wound to go with that knife wound.” 

“A bullet wound from a gunman with no gun?” Goemon asked quietly. The words hung between him and Jigen as if Goemon had carved them into the very air -- charged, electric. Just as Goemon intended. 

Jigen raised his hand before either of them could react. 

Goemon caught his wrist right before Jigen would’ve smacked him in the face.

The room froze. Fujiko had her hand over her mouth, eyes wide. Zenigata was half out of his chair, hand upflung as he if could stop Jigen from across the room. 

Jigen and Goemon were both breathing heavy, and their arms shook where Goemon gripped Jigen’s wrist. Sweat beaded on Goemon’s face. Jigen looked at him wide-eyed, incredulous, then looked at his own hand like it was disconnected from his body. 

He looked back at Goemon. 

Goemon fought a smile. He’d won. 

“Goemon, I’m--” 

“Going to sit down and explain what’s going on, who Jaina Sark is, and how she got the drop on me and Lupin,” Goemon finished for him. He let go of Jigen’s hand. 

Jigen stood there for a minute. 

Goemon reached over to the back of the couch and grabbed Jigen’s hat. “And, you’re going to put this back on…” Goemon plopped it on Jigen’s head, then flicked the brim up so he could see Jigen’s eyes and smiled. “...my friend.” 

Jigen let out a pent-up breath and gave Goemon a weak smile in return. “Right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, Jaina is officially running her own show now. She just sort of took off in this chapter and she’s more vicious than I initially intended (but then again, I guess you have to be to get the drop on Lupin and gang). As her backstory grew, so did her hatred of Jigen and her thirst for revenge, and you know how that goes...Lupin is Jigen’s weak spot and Jaina’s prepared to wring him dry.
> 
> AND headcanon strikes again! Dun, dun, dun...Because, why not? In the show, Goemon, Lupin, and Jigen all appear to be about the same height. On the Lupin wiki, Goemon is listed as being an inch taller than Jigen, with Lupin being ½” in the middle of them (really convenient, no?), but in my head, Goemon’s a smidgen shorter than Jigen, a fact that I imagine bugs our samurai friend more than he lets on…but, I also imagine Jigen’s hat gives him a bit of a ‘larger than life’ quality that he lacks without it, putting him and Goemon on more even footing, so to speak. 
> 
> Also, as I've been writing this, I've now watched Pink Jacket (what an awkward gem) and I'm on to The Italian Adventure. So perhaps some of the idioms of those iterations of Lupin are sneaking in as I write more...


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here it is...the moment we've all been waiting for -- Jigen's reveal.

Jigen paced the living room floor, a half-empty beer in one hand. (He’d polished off the whiskey last night and the fridge and cabinets were woefully empty this morning). He tried to ignore the feeling of three sets of eyes following his every move. Tried to focus on what he was going to say instead, but words escaped him, floating through his head like bad memories. 

Being the center of attention was not Jigen’s forte. He was content to be the backdrop and worked far better in the wings. Lupin was the one who liked stealing the show and worked best when all eyes were on him. Lupin was the main character. Jigen was the shadow. And he was content with that. He’d spent enough time being the center of attention in his younger years to last him a lifetime.

But flying under the radar wasn’t an option when you signed on with Lupin III. Lupin was larger than life, which, by default, meant his shadow was too. And as Lupin’s shadow, Jigen was the one who knew the most about the man. Sure, Fujiko professed to love him and she knew enough about his quirks to weasel her way in and out of Lupin’s good graces, but she didn’t really _know_ him. She didn’t know that Lupin preferred red wine over white, that his favorite color changed on a daily basis (even though he said it was green), or that he would recite the names of all the people he’d failed to save when he got drunk enough. 

Even Goemon, for all his stout devotion, didn’t understand the way Lupin thought. Goemon saw the world in shades of black and white, while Lupin lived and breathed vibrant technicolor. Goemon didn't understand half of the reasons why Lupin did what he did.

Which meant Jigen was the only one who really knew what made Lupin tick. Because he was the shoulder Lupin cried on, the backboard for all Lupin’s ideas. He was the springpoint, the foundation, the infrastructure to Lupin’s wild capers.

Which meant it fell to him to figure out how to rescue Lupin from the vengeful clutches of his own ex. And now he had to explain all that to the three pairs of eyes watching him.

“Stop pacing and sit down,” Goemon said. “It hurts to watch you.” 

Jigen stopped. “That bad, huh?” 

“You’re more uptight than me with an empty wallet,” Fujiko said. 

Jigen gave her a long-suffering look. 

“I was waiting on you to wear a hole in the carpet,” Zenigata said. 

Jigen, Goemon and Fujiko all glared at him, like he spoke out of turn. Zenigata sank into the armchair, pulling his hat down over his face. Despite the fact that they’d let him into the house and he patched Goemon, they were reluctant to let him into their close-knit camaraderie. But they were also reluctant to kick him out. So, Pops stayed, like some sort of stray dog someone let in out of the rain.

Jigen sighed and folded cross-legged onto the floor in front of the coffee table, facing Fujiko and Goemon on the couch. He had to hide a smirk at the fact that the tips of Goemon's ears were still red. He kept casting subtle looks at Fujiko, who was folded into the couch next to him. Jigen wondered if Goemon remembered Fujiko stroking his hair last night. He figured by the way Goemon fastidiously avoided touching her that he did.

To his left, Pops tipped his hat back and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. Jigen decidedly ignored the way Zenigata’s eyes bored twin holes into the side of his head. The inspector was in full fact-gathering mode and it made Jigen uncomfortable to say the least. Not only was he about to tell a story he’d never told before (not even to Lupin), but he was about to tell it to Fujiko and Pops. 

Jigen drained the rest of his beer before speaking. It wasn’t quite as effective as whiskey, but he supposed this would have to be liquid courage enough. 

“I was part of the mob,” he began. 

“Tell us something we don’t know.” Fujiko faked a yawn and covered her hand with her mouth. 

Goemon poked her in the ribs with his sheathed sword. She glared at him.

Jigen stared at Fujiko until she held up her hands in defeat. 

“I was the boss’ right hand man, bodyguard. Whatever you want to call it,” he continued. “Anyway, the boss had a daughter. Pretty girl. Bright. Talented.” Jigen pulled a cigarette from his pocket and lit it, pausing to take a deep inhale.

“And you fell for her?” Pops guessed. 

Jigen pretended not to be surprised as he nodded. “Hard not to when she was the only female for miles. Half the mob was in love with her.” 

He glared daggers at Fujiko, daring the grin at the corner of her mouth to turn into words, but she merely winked. 

Jigen rolled his eyes. “Turns out, she had a thing for me.” 

Fujiko snorted, biting her lip, then outright laughed. Jigen crumpled his beer can and threw it at her. 

“Hey!” she yelped as it hit her in the chest.

“You shouldn’t laugh at the fact that other people actually find love, Fujiko,” Goemon said. 

Fujiko grabbed the can and lifted her arm as if to throw it at Goemon.

He exaggerated a pained expression and slipped one hand under his kimono to the bandages wrapped around his side. Fujiko settled for sticking her tongue out at him. 

Zenigata chuckled. 

Fujiko chucked the can at him instead. He let it bounce off his hat. 

“So, this woman,” Goemon said, giving Fujiko a steady glare. “This daughter of the mob boss. That’s Jaina Sark.” 

“Yeah,” Jigen said. 

“And you were lovers?” 

“Yeah.” 

“So you _did_ return the feeling!” Fujiko accused. 

“I said that first, didn’t I?” Jigen said, annoyed with Fujiko's interruptions.

“You agreed that you fell for her. Not the same thing.” 

“Well, it is in my book. Now shut up and let me finish. Goemon, if she interrupts again, stab her for me.” 

Goemon nodded and slid Zantetsuken a few inches from its sheath. 

Fujiko shut her mouth and crossed her arms, looking disgruntled. 

Zenigata looked like he was about to say something until Jigen turned a death glare on him. He suddenly got very interested in a bit of fabric on the sleeve of his trenchcoat. 

Jigen took another long draw on his cigarette, then began his story again. “Jaina and I were inseparable. We went with the boss everywhere, we knew the ins and outs of the mob. Or thought we did. Turns out, a coup formed right under our noses and we missed it until too late.” 

Jigen paused and pulled the brim of his hat lower over his face. “I got sent on a mission with the boss to negotiate with another mob across town. It was supposed to be a peaceful trip, just me and him. Our car was rigged to explode. I think it was supposed to kill us both, but I survived and I…” Jigen’s breath hitched. He hid it with a cough. “I ran.” 

“You ran?” It was Pops who interrupted this time, incredulous.

“What, can’t picture it?” 

Zenigata shook his head. “You’re usually more of the make a last stand and face your fears kind of guy.” 

“Hmph. I'm also a keep my sorry ass alive kinda guy. I knew what the coup would do if they caught me. I was injured and I couldn’t fight ‘em all by myself.” 

“They blamed you for it, didn’t they?” Fujiko asked. “I mean, it’s what I’d do if I found out my one of my targets went missing.” 

“And you think I’m cruel,” Jigen muttered. 

Fujiko turned up her nose with a haughty expression. 

“But yes, that’s exactly what they did. The coup blamed me for killing the boss. For murdering Jaina's father.” 

Goemon and Zenigata both winced. 

“And she hated you for it,” Fujiko said, surprisingly gentle. There was a genuine note of sadness in her voice. 

“I tried to find her, to tell her the truth. By the time I did, it was months later and the coup poisoned Jaina against me. She agreed to meet, but she set a trap and tried to kill me.” 

“Well, she obviously didn’t succeed,” Zenigata said. 

Jigen laughed humorlessly. “No, she didn’t.” 

“But you didn’t kill her either,” Goemon pointed out. 

“I didn't want to kill her. I thought I could still get through to her. She forced my hand and shot first, so I gave her a warning and disappeared.” 

“A warning?” Fujiko asked. 

“Let’s just say she’s not a right-handed gunman anymore.” 

“Gun woman,” Fujiko said. 

“Whatever.” 

“That still doesn’t explain how she got the drop on all of us,” Zenigata interrupted. 

“Right...that. Well,” Jigen rubbed the back of his neck with one hand. “I taught her everything she knows.” 

Zenigata whistled. Fujiko gasped. Even Goemon sat up a little straighter. 

“At one time her draw was just a few milliseconds slower than mine,” Jigen said.

“So what you’re trying to say is that we’re going up against a ruthless female hell-bent on revenge who knows your weaknesses and is determined to kill you?” Fujiko asked. 

“That about sums it up, yeah.”

“Then why the hell didn’t you get your butt to the train tracks faster?!” Fujiko demanded. 

“Because Lupin was being a damn showboat about it! I’m not an idiot. I knew he was setting me up.” 

“So you were going to take your sweet time about showing up?” Fujiko stood up and put her hands on her hips. 

“I wasn’t going to show up at all.” 

“I knew it!” Fujiko shouted. “I knew Lupin’s plan wouldn’t work! I knew he shouldn’t have counted on your compassion.” 

Jigen was on his feet so fast it was almost like he phased from sitting to standing. “My compassion has nothing to do with the fact that Lupin decided to hire a damn assassin to up the ante!” 

“That was my fault,” Zenigata mumbled, but Fujiko and Jigen didn’t seem to notice.

“He only upped the ante because you were being a stubborn ass! If you didn’t lose your mind over missing one stupid shot, Lupin wouldn’t be kidnapped.”

“If Lupin listened to me and left me alone in the first place, he wouldn’t be kidnapped!” 

“If you showed up faster --” 

“I showed up as fast as I could! As soon as I realized Jaina was involved I drove like a devil to get to you. You should be glad I got there at all.”

“I should be glad?! I should be glad?? You --”

“Enough!” Goemon was in between them, one hand on Jigen’s chest and the other on Fujiko’s shoulder, holding them apart. 

Jigen and Fujiko glowered at each other across Goemon. Jigen realized his hands were fisted and he let them go.

“Goemon’s right,” Zenigata said. He was standing now too. “We won’t solve this by arguing. What Lupin needs right now is a team, not a fight. If we want to rescue Lupin, we’re going to have to work together.” 

There was a long moment of silence. Goemon stared at Fujiko and Jigen in turn, brows drawn and mouth a thin line of disapproval.

“I can’t believe I'm saying this, but you’re right, Pops,” Jigen sighed. 

“Of course I am,” Zenigata said. 

Everybody glared at him. 

He continued, undaunted. "First thing we need is a plan. How do we find Jaina?"

At that moment the window behind Jigen shattered and a dark object came hurtling through the room. Jigen ducked. Fujiko and Goemon jumped back and drew their weapons. The object crashed into the coffee table and rolled off onto the floor. Jigen, Goemon and Fujiko shared a long look. Jigen realized they were waiting on Lupin to say something -- to react to the object with concern or his usual nonchalance. But, of course, it was pretty damn hard to react to something when you were kidnapped and not even present.

Jigen shook himself and peered over the table to see a rock sitting on the floor with a piece of paper wrapped around it. He could just catch the edge of a sprawling "J" on one side of the paper. 

"I think she just found us," he said. He reached down and picked up the rock, unwrapping the piece of paper. It was a single sheet of stationary, folded in half once, and embossed at the top with a family crest. A crest Jigen thought he'd seen the last of years ago - the Sark family's crest. Jigen unfolded the page and read the three sentences scrawled on the inside. 

_I have Lupin. If you want him, you'll come to the Sark Mansion by 10pm tomorrow night. I'll be waiting._

_Love, Jaina_

Goemon, Fujiko, and Zenigata crowded close to read the note. 

"What kind of woman signs a ransom note with 'love'?" Fujiko demanded. 

Goemon raised an eyebrow and shook his head with a puzzled expression. 

"The obsessive kind," Zenigata said. "So...now what?" 

"We go to the mansion and get Lupin, that's what," Jigen said and there was something fierce in his tone, something that had been missing for the last few weeks. "Where's my magnum?" 

Fujiko and Goemon stared at him like he'd lost his mind.

"I thought you weren't touching it," Fujiko said.

"I wasn't," Jigen growled. "But I'm going to now. Why? Where'd you put it?" 

"I didn't do anything with it!" Fujiko held up her hands.

"Then were is it?" 

"The thing is..." Goemon said slowly. "Lupin had it." 

"Great. Just great." Jigen sighed.

"So, what are you going to do?" Zenigata asked. 

"Go rescue Lupin _and_ my gun, then shoot the bastard right between the eyes." Jigen jerked his hat lower on his head and stomped towards the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always enjoy writing dialogue. It's probably my favorite part of a story to write. But doing conversation between more than two people is difficult and this story is full of 3 or 4 way conversations. I'm always thinking about who would say what and what sounds most realistic/in character coming out of whose mouth...this story's been a bit of a challenge, but it's a ton of fun ;)
> 
> As for Jigen's backstory, I'm running with some of the hints from the show, specifically the mob/mafia vibes we get and then adding my own detail as I go :D


	10. Chapter Ten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey friends! First, I apologize for this chapter being late (and I was doing so good with keeping up, too!) But I've had a crazy two weeks over here, so it took me longer to get this chapter up.   
> Secondly, there have been a few minor edits to chapters seven and eight since their posting (mainly a few inconsistency fixes and a little more detail added about timing) so feel free to re-read if you'd like (no major content changes, though, so if you don't, it's also fine)  
> And lastly, iSaphura left a comment on the last chapter regarding timing, so I figured I'd flesh it out a little in case it's not clear. It's been about 10-12 hours since Lupin's been kidnapped and about 6-8 hours since Jaina threatened him initially (since he was unconscious for a little while at the beginning of his kidnapping)...but this chapter should answer the question of what's been happening during that time ;)

Jaina started out like any other torturer -- with an appropriately dungeon-esque room with grey stone walls and suspicious stains on the grey stone floor. Lupin was chained up, hands behind his back and arms bound tightly to his sides. The chain then wrapped up and over a wooden ceiling beam and was held by one of Jaina’s henchmen so that they could raise and lower him. Right now, they were holding him just high enough off the ground that he couldn’t steady himself. If he stretched his feet, he could brush the ground with the tips of his shoes. Jaina certainly knew how to keep him on his toes.

Lupin tested the chains again. They resisted his strength like they had every other time. Given the opportunity, he could dislocate every joint in his body and wriggle out of the chains. But he’d need time to put himself back together after pulling a stunt like that and there were way too many goons and bullets in the room for that. Jaina had a few of her black-suited lackeys lined up around the edge of the room, all conspicuously armed.

Lupin sighed. Bad guys were all the same. No imagination and no flair. He’d been substituted for a punching bag often enough in his line of work to know the routine. Although she had a significant show of force in the room, Jaina wouldn’t go for anything overtly deadly yet. No blades, no bullets, not too much blood. She needed him alive right now. Instead, she plied a careful kind of abuse calculated to wear him down. 

Much as he hated to admit it, it was starting to work. Lupin could feel it in his black eye and split lip. He could feel it in the angry burn of a couple of bruised (maybe broken) ribs. He could feel it in the way his right ankle grated when he put weight on it. Nothing that would kill him and nothing that wouldn’t mend with time. Enough of these little injuries though, and he'd be hard pressed to fight back. 

He certainly wasn't going to let Jaina know that though. Because that was also the trick with all the bad guys he’d ever faced. Keep grinning, keep that cocky attitude and they all slipped up eventually. The hardest part was making them angry enough to make mistakes without tipping them over the edge to straight up offing him. Right now, he was safe (relatively speaking) because that wasn’t an option for Jaina. Because she still hadn’t pinpointed Jigen. Which meant that Lupin could infuriate her as much as he wanted. For now.

If Jaina’s men were tracking Goemon and Zenigata like she said, they’d eventually score on at least one of them. And if Pops had picked up on Lupin’s hint at all, then he was with the gang. Which meant it didn’t matter whether they trailed Goemon or Zenigata. Both would ultimately lead to Jigen. Unless Jigen’s suspicious ass kicked Zenigata out, but Lupin figured Jigen would even be willing to accept Pop’s help on this one. All that was to say, Lupin’s life hung by a fragile thread indeed. So, naturally, he strung that thread right out like a tightrope and danced across it while laughing at Death. Because, really, if you couldn’t laugh at Death, what was the point of living?

For the umpteenth time, Lupin spat blood out of his mouth, put on a cocky grin, and asked, “So, how’d you do it?” 

Jaina raised a hand. 

Lupin instinctively flinched, the motion sending him scrabbling for balance again. He knew he couldn’t break the chain, but he still tried to spread his arms to keep his balance. As expected, he was only met with the familiar burn in his shoulders that told him he’d strained against his bonds too many times. 

“I don’t think you know how an interrogation works,” Jaina scowled.

“I think you’re confused as to who’s interrogating whom,” Lupin shot back. “Or is it who’s interrogating who? I can never remember.” He tried to shrug and made a mental note that shrugs didn’t work very well when you were tied up. 

There was a moment of silence. Lupin braced himself for another hit, another punch, another bone snapping. Instead, Jaina walked a slow circle around him as he swayed above the floor.

He thought about trying to kick her again, but the first time he did it, she’d grabbed his foot and twisted it, then he’d been yanked up so fast he’d almost gotten dizzy. They let him hang from the ceiling until the pressure of the chains against his chest made it hard to breathe. So, instead, he waited. 

“This is getting us nowhere,” Jaina finally said. 

“Glad you noticed.” 

“Do you play games, Mr. Lupin?”

“All the time.” 

“Then I propose a game.” 

Lupin looked at her warily.

“Since you don’t seem to do interrogations well, let's try a conversation. I’ll ask you a question and you answer, then you can ask me a question and I’ll answer. Fair enough?”

“We just trade questions and answers? That’s it?” Lupin asked. 

“That’s it.”

“Where’s the catch?” 

“The catch? You’re a suspicious bastard.” 

“Well, I can’t say you’ve given me much reason to trust you.”

Jaina smiled. “I don’t trust anyone, Lupin, and I make it a point not to let others trust me. Leaves no room for doubt that way.”

“Miserable way to live, though.” 

Jaina shrugged one shoulder. 

“The catch?” Lupin reminded her.

“Right. The catch. If you refuse to answer, we resume the interrogation.” 

“Ooh, scary.” 

She slapped him across the face so fast, Lupin didn’t have time to react. His head snapped back and he felt fresh blood well up in his nose. He spun on the end of the chain, feet scrabbling for purchase on the floor. Jaina reached out a hand to stop him so she could look him in the eye. "To be clear, Mr. Lupin, if you ply your sarcasm, we also resume the interrogation." 

Lupin blinked his good eye a few times to clear his head. "Yes, ma'am," he muttered. 

“Now, do we have a deal?” Jaina asked.

Lupin thought about it for a minute. She only specified that he had to answer, not that he had to tell the truth. He could twist the truth about a million different ways without actually lying or revealing anything important. “Alright,” Lupin nodded. “We have a deal.” 

“Then shoot.” 

"Oh, I'd love to," Lupin said. "But I will not do that, obviously," he said quickly when Jaina scowled. "I'll just ask questions now. How’d you get the drop on Goemon?” 

“I played to his strengths,” Jaina said. “I knew the track the train would take and I knew there was tunnel before the switch. So I rigged a projection system in the tunnel to display a couple of different images on my command. I simply showed Goemon an image of what he expected to see -- an attacker. And he responded exactly like I thought he would. By attacking.” 

“Only, you were waiting to attack him from behind.” 

“Bingo.” 

“But how did you --” 

Jaina punched him in the gut this time. Hard enough to wind him and send a twinge up his side. He coughed as he swayed again. Jaina reached out a hand and stopped him again.

“One question. One answer. Got it?” 

Lupin nodded. 

“My turn. How did you meet Jigen?” 

“In a bar. He nearly killed me for offering him a drink. I’m starting to think I know why, too,” Lupin glared at Jaina. “But we decided we made better partners than enemies. How’d you meet him?” 

“I met Jigen in the mob. He used to be a hitman for my father.”

“But he's not _your_ hitman,” Lupin noted. 

Jaina quirked an eyebrow. 

“Oh, come on, it’s not like I haven’t figured out you’re running a mob here! Goons in black glasses and suits who have the brain power of a bug and the brawn of a bull and answer your every command. I’m not an idiot.” 

“Fair enough,” Jaina conceded. “As for Jigen, he’s not my hitman because he murdered my father.” 

Lupin’s eyes widened. He knew Jigen had a past soaked in blood. And he knew Jigen killed people -- had killed people. “But in cold blo--” Lupin stopped himself from asking a question just in time. “I mean, that doesn’t sound like Jigen.” 

“How much do you actually know about Jigen?” 

“I know he’s got a stubborn streak a mile wide. I know he doesn’t trust women. I know he can’t stand to lose his hat. I know he’s picky about his cigarettes. I know he’s loyal.” 

“Loyal to what though?” Jaina asked. 

“Hey, that’s two questions!” 

“My game, my rules,” Jaina smirked. “I still expect you to answer. What do you think Jigen’s loyal to? You?” 

Lupin was silent for a minute. Up until recently, he never would’ve questioned Jigen’s loyalty. He still didn’t question his loyalty...not really...but...there was that nagging doubt in the back of his mind after Jigen’s reaction to the Exo incident. Jigen was upset that he’d failed Lupin. That was loyalty, right? But was it loyal to give up? Was it loyal to leave Lupin hanging at the train? And Jigen wasn’t here now, was he? It had been almost 12 hours, give or take a few, since Lupin had been kidnapped. Surely that was enough time for Jigen to get here? 

Lupin shook his head. No! Jaina was trying to get him to see things that weren’t there. Jigen was the most loyal member of his gang. Sure, he didn’t know every little detail of Jigen’s past, or every reason Jigen did what he did, but that didn’t matter. Because Lupin was loyal to Jigen, and Jaina wasn’t going to change that. 

“It’s not working, you know,” Lupin said. 

“What?” 

“It’s not working. You’re not scaring me. I don’t need to know what Jigen is loyal to. He’s never failed me when I’ve counted on him and that’s what matters.” 

Jaina snorted. 

“Why do you want to kill him so badly?” Lupin asked. 

“I assumed that would be obvious. He betrayed me and killed my father. The day he killed my father, he also killed a part of me.”

“Yeah, your heart,” Lupin muttered. 

“Exactly.” 

He looked surprised. He hadn’t expected Jaina to agree with him. 

“Do you really want to protect a man like that? Just give it up, Lupin. Tell me where Jigen is and spare yourself the trouble. ”

“No,” Lupin stuck his tongue out. “Jigen is my friend. And I don’t have any evidence otherwise. So I’m not giving him up.”

This time, Jaina kicked him in the stomach. Lupin doubled up as much as the chain allowed, feeling everything in his body protest the fresh wave of pain. He felt something wet at the corner of his mouth and licked his lip. He tasted blood. From his lip or something internal, he wasn’t sure.

“Don’t be an altruistic fool.” 

“Look,” Lupin panted. It took him longer to get his breath back than he would’ve liked. “I’m tired...of your game. I won't tell you where Jigen is. Not now. Not when I’m dead." He took a deep breath. "So give it a rest. Or shoot me and be done with it. But this petty schoolyard bully stuff is unbecoming of criminals of our caliber.” 

“Is that what I am to you? A petty bully?” 

“Seems petty to me, beating up a guy who can’t fight back.” 

“You want to fight back, do you?” 

“Well, it  _ is _ more fair that way.”

“Very well. Set him loose,” Jaina instructed her men. 

Lupin heard a few murmurs around the room and he hid a grin. He was lowered to the floor and one of the men came up and released the chain. 

“Thank you, Jeeves,” he said. 

The man glared at him, but Lupin didn’t pay him any attention as he tested his weight on his right leg. He took a few steps, exaggerating his limp. Although he hurt, he figured he could still give hell in a fight if he tried hard enough. But there was no need ot let Jaina know that. Lupin kept his arms close to his sides, one hand pressed to his ribcage. He let himself hunch over, as if it were too much to stand up straight. Jaina followed his every move, sizing him up, assessing every weakness, every injury. Good. That’s exactly what he wanted. He wanted to look as unassuming as possible. 

“So, Lupin, you want a fight? Or do you have a rule about hitting women, too?” 

Lupin wiped a sleeve across his nose. It came away bloodier than he would’ve liked. “Well, as a general rule, I don’t,” he said. “But in your case, I think I’ll make an exception.” 

Jaina walked a few slow steps to his left. Lupin circled to his right to keep her in front of him. He had a lot of confidence in his hand to hand skills, but he knew he was at a disadvantage right now. His only chance would be to take Jaina by surprise. She was whole and she was trained to fight. He was injured and exceptional at improvising. But that didn’t always make up for his injuries. 

No, if he had any chance at beating Jaina, he’d have to do something...totally unexpected. The chain that he’d been wrapped up in was still lying on the floor and there was a loop in one end. If he could get Jaina to step in it…

Lupin rushed Jaina. It was clumsy, open, obvious. Jaina did exactly what Lupin expected. She dodged, sidestepping him neatly. And stepped right into the loop of chain on the floor. She lashed out with a foot as Lupin passed her and kicked his right ankle. Lupin yelped and clattered to the floor, rolling to his hands and knees at the end of the chain. 

Lupin grabbed the chain and yanked. The chain tightened around Jaina’s ankle, catching her by surprise and pulling her left foot out from under her. Jaina fell. Lupin was on his feet and moving as soon as she lost her balance. He tackled Jaina and the two toppled to the ground in a tangle of arms and legs. 

But Jaina was more prepared for the move than Lupin expected. She used the momentum of his tackle against him and turned the move into a somersault, regaining her feet, and dragging Lupin upright with her. Faster than Lupin could resist, Jaina wrapped her left arm around Lupin’s neck and looped her right leg around his, arching him back across her chest. Lupin struggled, off-balance and at a sudden lack of air. He grabbed at the arm around his neck, trying to pry it loose. 

With her free hand, Jaina wrenched his right arm back until his shoulder threatened to pop. Lupin froze. He’d been put in this hold only a few times in his life. And only by one person -- Jigen. Which meant Jigen had trained Jaina while they were in the mob. Which meant Jigen had been a whole lot more than just her father’s hitman. Lupin’s eyes went wide. 

“Jigen...was your -- ”

“Enough!” Jaina yanked his arm tighter, wrenching his shoulder harder. 

A man suddenly burst through the door of the room. He paused when he saw Jaina and Lupin. “Ms. Sark?” he asked, uncertain. 

“What is it?” Jaina sounded annoyed. 

“They’ve found Jigen, Ms. Sark,” he said. Lupin felt his heart do a flip-flop straight into his stomach.

“And my message?” Jaina asked. 

“Delivered, ma’am.” 

“Excellent. Thank you, Shelton.” 

Shelton gave Jaina a quick salute and left the room. 

Lupin’s tightrope just snapped and Death was standing at the bottom waiting to catch him. Well, there was nothing else for it now. 

“Lover,” Lupin said softly. 

“What?” Jaina demanded. 

“Lover. Jigen was...your lover. Wasn’t h--AAARRGGH!” Lupin grit his teeth as Jaina wrenched his shoulder out of joint. Although he could do it to himself at will, it hurt a whole lot more when someone else did it for him. Jaina dropped him unceremoniously on the floor. Lupin barely managed to catch himself on his good arm. 

“Don’t deny it,” Lupin grinned up at Jaina. “You know I’m right.” 

Jaina knelt until she was only inches from Lupin’s face. “If you know what’s good for you, Lupin, you’ll stop talking. I’d like to leave you alive...and whole...for a little longer. But I really only need you breathing to lure Jigen in here. So, keep talking. I dare you.” 

For once in his life, Lupin listened to that little voice in the back of his head that told him maybe he should shut up. Maybe he’d poked a rawer nerve than he’d intended. Maybe this time, he _should_ wait for Jigen. He swallowed and shook his head slowly. 

"That's what I thought," Jaina said. 

When he didn’t say anything else, Jaina stood back up and addressed her men. “Jigen is on his way,” she said. “Tie this one up,” she jerked a thumb at Lupin, “and get him in place. It’s time we spring our trap.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know that I've made a couple of notes about 70's technology so far -- and I may have fudged it a bit here with Jaina's projection system (but Lupin's always using new-fangled and crazy gadgets, so why not?)
> 
> And I'm completely making up my own Lupin/Jigen first meeting story. Far as I know, that's not addressed in the show directly (at least not what I've watched so far), so I figure it's pretty fair game ;)


	11. Chapter Eleven

“That’s not a mansion,” Zenigata muttered as he handed off the binoculars to Goemon. 

“It’s a fortress,” Goemon said beside him. 

“What the hell, Jigen!” Fujiko exclaimed when it was her turn to look through the binoculars. 

“I never said it was a real mansion,” Jigen said from where he leaned on the bumper of Lupin’s roadster. “That’s just what they call it.” He had his back to the mob headquarters and a lit cigarette in one hand. Although he looked nonchalant, long legs crossed in front of him, shoulders slouched, Zenigata could see the stiffness in his back, the way he eyed the castle from under his hat. Jigen was more on edge than he was admitting. 

“Well you could’ve mentioned that it was a freakin’ castle!” Fujiko huffed. 

Zenigata reached over and took the binoculars from her again. He whistled. “They’ve got that place locked up tighter than ISSP headquarters.”

“You do realize ISSP headquarters isn’t locked up that tight.” Goemon sounded amused. 

Zenigata looked over at him with narrowed eyes, but, as always, it was impossible to tell whether the samurai was joking or not. Goemon flashed him a smile. Zenigata sighed and looked back at the castle.

It was a formidable structure built into a seaside cliff about an hour out of town. The building was complete with stone walls, crenelations, and even arrow slits. Zenigata was pretty sure they’d be more aptly named “bullet slits” in this case.

The castle had one road leading to the front entrance. Otherwise, the only approach was by boat. Lower down on the cliff, below the castle, there was a dock with a few mid-size boats moored. Although there were no obvious modern security measures visible on the castle, Zenigata was sure they were there. 

All in all, every approach he could see was too obvious. If they approached by car or boat, they’d be seen from the castle long before they got close. If they approached by foot, they might be able to get closer, using the trees and surrounding countryside for cover, but they’d be more vulnerable to defenders on the castle walls. They might be able to approach from underwater, but that would take a lot more preparation and equipment than they currently had. The only other option would be to scale the cliff directly, but Zenigata was pretty sure the mob had some sort of preventative measures (or at the very least, cameras) in place to discourage curious climbers. 

“Getting in is gonna be a doozy,” he muttered, half to himself. 

“Naw,” Jigen drawled. 

Zenigata nearly jumped out of his skin. As usual, he hadn’t seen Jigen move and suddenly the gunman was right next to him, practically talking in his ear. His cigarette smoke wafted past Zenigata’s face. 

“I’m gonna walk up to the front gate and knock. They’ll let me in.” 

“If they don’t blast your head off first,” Fujiko cut in. “There is no way that’s your plan. That’s ridiculous.” 

“I hate to agree, but Fujiko has a point,” Goemon said, turning to face Jigen. “You can’t walk in there alone.” 

“Oh yeah? Why not?” Jigen asked. 

“Well, not least because you’re not armed,” Goemon said. 

“And whose fault is that?” 

Everyone stared at Jigen for a long moment. Although Zenigata didn’t have all the details, he knew enough about Jigen to understand that he’d been walking around gun-less by choice. Some kind of self-inflicted penance, he guessed. 

Jigen sighed and threw his hands up. 

“Look, you can’t get Lupin out if you’re dead,” Zenigata said. After all, that’s what this was, right? A rescue. Although Zenigata was beginning to feel like Jigen had other plans in mind. Something that he wasn’t telling the rest of them. 

“Who said I’m going to be dead? Are you guys deaf? I said they’ll let me walk in.” 

“And how do you know that?” Fujiko put her hands on her hips. 

“Because Jaina wants revenge. And she’s the type to do it with her own hand. She won’t let her goons touch me.” 

“Then all she has to do is personally blast your head off at the gate,” Goemon said. “We’re back at square one.” 

Jigen sighed and pulled the brim of his hat lower over his face. “And I suppose you guys have a better idea?” 

“We could pretend to capture you and turn you in,” Fujiko suggested. 

Jigen scowled. “You don't answer ransom notes as a prisoner. Jaina's expecting me. There’s no reason for anyone to bring me to her. She’ll see straight through that.” 

“Then we sneak in another way,” Goemon said. “There are several points of entry that we could use without being obvious.” 

“How many of them can _you_ use, Frankenstein?” Jigen snapped. 

“Frankenstein?” Goemon asked, genuinely confused. 

“I think he’s referring to your stitches,” Zenigata said. 

“Oh.” Goemon scowled and put a hand to his side briefly. “ _Oh._ I see.” Goemon narrowed his eyes, staring at Jigen as if he could see through him. “Selfish bastard,” he said. 

Zenigata was surprised. Goemon rarely cursed, and almost never at his friends. He hardly even indulged in friendly name-calling. 

Jigen looked up with a questioning glance.

“This is a rescue, Jigen, not a trade,” Goemon said, tone final. 

Jigen looked away.

“We came to get Lupin out, not leave you here. We are _not_ trading you for Lupin.” Goemon crossed his arms. “I don’t care what your guilty conscience says about it.” 

As usual, the samurai hit the nail on the head and there was a moment of charged silence while everyone digested that information.

Zenigata surprised himself when he was the first to speak. He coughed once or twice, clearing his throat. “There’s a certain matter of...professional pride mixed up in this business,” he said. “I get that. But I also get that none of us are going to stand quietly by and allow you to sacrifice yourself for Lupin. Because we’re too damned stubborn.”

Jigen and Goemon both looked like they were about to interrupt so Zenigata held up a hand. To his amazement, they stayed quiet. 

“You have a score to settle,” he said, looking at Jigen. “And I’ll stay out of that, you have my word. But I can’t in good conscious sit here and do nothing about Lupin. I had a hand in getting him in this mess, so I’ll have a hand in getting him out. And if I have any say in it, I’ll have a hand in getting all four of you helpless idiots out alive.”

There was a twitch at the corner of Jigen’s mouth that might have been the beginning of a smile, but he ducked his head so fast it was hard to tell. Damn the man and his infernal hat. How did Lupin read him so easily? Zenigata guessed it came from years of friendship -- years of reading every tilt of the gunman’s head, every angle of his hat, every line of his body. But maybe, just maybe, Zenigata read him right this time.

When he spoke next, Jigen sounded vulnerable in a way Zenigata never heard before. “Goemon, surely you get it.” 

Goemon raised an eyebrow. While the silent answer fit Goemon’s nature, Zenigata was also pretty sure he did it to force Jigen to look at him. Jigen raised his head just enough for Zenigata to catch a fleeting glimpse of his eyes. 

“You understand why I have to do this, don’t you?” 

Goemon sighed. "It doesn't mean I like it, but...I do," he said. 

“What? Wait a minute!” Fujiko stepped forward, but Goemon put out a hand to stop her, shaking his head. 

Jigen continued. “Pops...I appreciate your sentiment. I know you mean it. But this is something you can’t do for me. I got Lupin into this mess --” 

“You?” Zenigata interrupted. “It was my fault Jaina got involved! Were you even listening to anything I --” 

Jigen’s glare was enough to shut him up. 

“I told Lupin before, no one can fix this for me. Not you, not Goemon, not Fujiko. I’m going to finish this and I’m going to do it my way.”

“And if your way gets you dead?” Goemon asked. 

Jigen shrugged. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.” 

“That hardly seems fair,” Fujiko huffed. 

“Life ain’t fair,” Jigen said. “And that’s just the way it is.” He turned and began to walk away. 

“Wait!” Fujiko called. 

Jigen stopped, but he didn’t turn around. 

Fujiko walked up to him. 

“At least take this,” she said, pressing something into his hand. Something cold. Something metal. 

Jigen looked down. It was Fujiko’s pistol. He looked back up at her with a strange expression on his face. 

“Please?” Fujiko asked quietly. “I know I’m a selfish bitch more often than not. But I really can’t bear the thought of you winding up dead. Lupin won’t be any fun if you die. So give yourself a fighting chance. Because if you come back dead, I am _not_ pouring whiskey on your grave.” 

She thought she caught the spark of a scowl on Jigen’s face. That scowl he saved just for her. He took the gun and slid it into his waistband, then walked away without a word. 

“You hear me, Jigen?” Fujiko called after him. “I mean it! You’ll be a bone dry ghost!”

“Are we really going to let him walk in there alone?” Pops asked, incredulous, as Fujiko joined them by the car again. 

“Of course not.” Goemon made a face. “We’re just going to let him _think_ he’s going in alone.” 

Fujiko smiled and pulled a black case out of the car. 

“Pops, I’m disappointed in you. We we playing Jigen, obviously,” Fujiko purred. 

“So...you two knew where this was going the whole time?” 

“Of course. Jigen’s pretty easy to read. He only ever does things one way,” Goemon said.

“His way?” Zenigata asked, surprised once again at how well the thieves were able to read each other. 

“We pretty much all only do things our own way,” Fujiko shrugged. “Until one of us gets in over our head and the other three step in.” 

“We provide the voice of reason for each other,” Goemon agreed. 

Zenigata pushed his hat back on his head and nodded. And here he was thinking he actually had to convince Jigen to abandon his plan. But he guessed if there was no hope in stopping him, then there was all the sense in the world in going after him. “So, what’s that?” Zenigata asked pointing at Fujiko’s black case. 

“Climbing gear,” Fujiko said. “You have an entrance for us, Goemon?” 

Goemon nodded. “I’ll make one.” 

Zenigata’s eyes widened. “Make one? Those walls are at least six feet thick!” 

Goemon slid Zantetsuken a few inches from its sheath. “Inspector, even you should know by now that my sword can cut through anything.” 

Zenigata looked back at the castle, then at the sword. He threw his hands up. “Alright, you win. How are we getting in?” 

They didn’t take him back to an empty room this time. This time, they took him to a grand suite and unceremoniously dumped him on the carpet in front of a dark fireplace. Lupin wasn’t sure where he was anymore, having lost his bearings as Jaina’s goons dragged him through the complex halls. No one bothered to reset his shoulder before they tied him up and Lupin had been focusing on not passing out or vomiting as they marched him through the halls. Now that he’d had time to lie down and keep his eyes shut for a few minutes, he felt a bit more in control of himself.

He sat up and slid over to the nearest wall, leaning up against it. He was careful not to jostle his dislocated shoulder. That was just rude, dislocating a guy’s shoulder and not taking the time to put it back. 

Lupin chuckled. This was it. He was going crazy. 

His thoughts were fuzzier than he would’ve liked, although he was aware of where he was and what time it was -- roughly. Jaina hadn’t left him a watch. When he paused to listen, he heard a clock ticking somewhere in the room, but he didn’t expend the effort to find it. He hurt, but it was nothing he hadn’t dealt with before. He wouldn’t be much use in a fight right now though. He wouldn’t be much use at all until he could get his shoulder back in place. He figured with enough concentration and effort he could probably reset it. 

Lupin took a careful, slow breath. He felt it shiver up his side, ribcage twinging as he moved. His ankle throbbed in time to the bruising on his face. The copper tang of blood wouldn’t leave his mouth. And he was tired. 

So tired. 

Lupin leaned his head back against the wall. 

The things he went through for Jigen.

He was going to have to think of a suitable reprimand when Jigen finally showed up to rescue him. 

But first...first he was going...to...close his eyes. Just for a minute.


	12. Chapter Twelve

Jigen wasn’t sure what to expect when he walked up to the front gate of the castle. He stopped inside the treeline, watching the gate. It looked like a castle drawbridge. The heavy wooden bridge lay open, death-metal gray chains holding it in place. Beneath the bridge, the land fell away sharply, dropping from grassy hills to rocky cliff in just a few feet, then plummeting down into the churning seawater below. This close to the castle, Jigen could hear the distant pounding of the water on the rocks. A backdrop he well remembered. That steady rhythm he’d come to know as well as his own heartbeat. 

Jigen took a deep breath. He couldn’t see any guards at the gate, although there usually weren’t any. At least not -- what, ten years ago now? Jigen realized with a sinking feeling that he couldn’t count on his knowledge of the mob. While it had been extensive for the time he’d been here, that time had come and gone. Jigen didn’t know anything more than the rest of the gang at this point.

And yet he talked like he did. He gave everyone the impression that he knew what to expect. Jigen sighed. He was an idiot. He should’ve known that his past would catch up to him eventually. Everything else did. So why hadn’t he been expecting Jaina? 

Because, if he was honest, there was that small part of him that had been hoping Jaina changed. That she’d remember the way it felt to sit on the castle rooftop all night smoking and laughing and drinking until the stars glittered like diamonds. The way it felt to wake up wrapped in his arms, the way it felt when they trained together, the giddy rush of a job done right. Jigen sighed. He was getting sentimental. 

Shooting off a girl’s trigger finger wouldn’t make her remember anything good. 

And standing here in the trees like a stunned deer wouldn’t help Lupin.

Or take care of his past.

Jigen stepped out of the tree line. The unfamiliar weight of Fujiko’s pistol rested in the hollow of his back like a bad memory. A reminder that he didn’t have his magnum. Not that he couldn’t shoot anything that had a trigger, but he’d have to compensate for the lighter gun. His draw would be faster, but the bullets weren’t as heavy, which meant he wouldn’t be able to pull off as many defensive tricks. 

Jigen forced himself to take a step forward. Then another. And another until he was walking intently toward the gate. His spine crawled as he stepped out onto the bridge, his footsteps ringing hollow over the cavernous drop below. He expected to feel the bite of a bullet between his shoulders at any moment, but nothing so much as moved as he crossed the bridge. He stepped off on the other side, under the iron portcullis that could be dropped to hold off unwanted guests. 

And still nothing moved. No one challenged him. 

He walked across the courtyard and right up to the front door without a single shot. No shouts. No guards. The hair on the back of Jigen’s neck stood up. This wasn’t right. Someone should have stopped him by now. Even if Jaina knew he was coming. He stopped at the front door and considered his options. Surely Jaina had seen him approach. 

But perhaps this was what she wanted. Perhaps she wanted him to believe that she didn’t care. Perhaps she wanted to scare him before he even got inside. Jaina had always liked mind games more than him. Even back when he trained her she’d enjoyed toying with her targets a little more than Jigen was comfortable with. And the perfect way to toy with him would be to make everything happen the way he  _ didn’t  _ expect it. Jigen was a comfortable soul, a creature of habit. Although he could roll with the punches, it was usually because he knew where they were coming from. 

Well, if Jaina was going to throw the unexpected at him, he’d toss it right back.

Jigen turned the handle on the front door. To his surprise, the huge door swung open. Jigen immediately jerked back behind the wall, but again, he was met with silence. No goons. No bullets. Jigen peered around the wall cautiously. Nothing. He slipped inside and ducked behind a nearby column. 

He pushed his hat back and surveyed the entryway. It looked much the same as he remembered it -- black and white stone floor, sprawling red carpet, crystal chandelier hanging over the grand marble staircase that lead to the upper floors. The chief difference was the last portrait in a line of portraits depicting past bosses -- Jaina’s father, Saegan. Jigen swallowed as the picture seemed to stare into his soul. Saegan was certainly no Lupin, but Jigen had been sorry to see him go. He’d genuinely liked the man -- as much as a hitman could like his employer. And no one deserved to die like he did, splattered across a road in so many pieces he was only recognizable by his clothing. Jigen wasn’t sure what had saved his life that day. Perhaps the fact that he’d been farther from the bomb. Or the fact that he’d been somewhat shielded by the seat of the car. Maybe it was just fate. But whatever it was, he’d found himself on the other end of that explosion with all his limbs still attached. And that was the trouble, wasn’t it? That he’d come out alive and Saegan hadn’t. That he’d cheated death, through no fault of his own, while another man died right beside him. Jigen didn’t really believe in higher powers, but there’d been something watching out for him that day. 

He couldn’t count on that same something to watch out for him again. No. Jigen had always made it out alive because he counted on himself. Until Lupin, that is. But Lupin was already neck deep in this mess. Goemon was injured. Fujiko and Zenigata were wild cards. It was all down to this. He was one-hundred percent certain he was walking right into Jaina’s trap. But it was a trap he had to keep walking into. For Lupin’s sake. For his sake. For Goemon and Fujiko and Zenigata’s sake. 

Jigen stepped out from behind the pillar. He had no doubt Jaina was somewhere in the castle, watching him. There were cameras in the castle even he hadn’t known about during his time here. She’d have eyes on him. He resisted the childish urge to flip the bird as he left the shadow of the pillar and headed for the staircase. Let them watch if they wanted. He’d made up his mind. They’d be hard-pressed to stop him. 

“Remind me why it is we’re crawling across a hundred foot cliff to invade a mob castle again?” Fujiko griped over the whistle of the wind. 

“Because Jigen needs backup,” Goemon grunted from ahead of her. He gamely clung to the cliff, moving as quickly as he dared with his injured side. The three interlopers all wore spiked gloves and had spikes attached to their shoes so they could scale the cliff. After repelling down so that they could approach the castle from below, they made their way across the cliff below a slight overhang that Goemon hoped would screen them from prying eyes and security devices. At least for a little while. 

“Getting cold feet, Fujiko?” Zenigata asked from behind her. 

Fujiko turned her head enough to scowl at him. 

“No, I’m getting cramps in my feet.” 

“We’re almost there,” Goemon said, words stiff as his breath caught. “Just make sure you’re ready.” 

“I’m ready,” Fujiko snapped. 

They crossed the rest of the cliff quickly, then climbed up to reach the back of the castle. There was a wide strip of land behind the castle before the cliff dropped off to the sea, wide enough to send a group of soldiers or scouts to deal with intruders. But also wide enough for three intruders to slip into the castle. 

The three paused below the edge of the cliff. 

“As soon as we climb up there, they’ll see us,” Zenigata said. 

“That’s what we want, right?” Fujiko asked. 

Goemon nodded. “Jaina may let Jigen in, but I don’t think she will let him out. We need to get as many eyes on us as possible.”

“You do realize there are only three of us, right?” Zenigata asked. 

Goemon and Fujiko looked at him with annoyed expressions. 

“Now who’s getting cold feet?” Fujiko asked. 

“I’m not getting cold feet! I just --” 

“No one asked you to come along, Inspector,” Goemon said. 

Zenigata paused. He almost looked as if that hurt. He frowned, then put on a stony expression -- the one he wore when things got serious. “Not only do I owe it to Lupin to get him out of there, but I can hardly leave an entire castle of gangsters sitting on a hill without at least investigating.” He pushed his hat more firmly on his head. “Let’s go.” 

Goemon nodded and climbed to the top of the cliff, shedding the gloves and the shoe spikes as he went. When he got to the top, he ran to the castle wall. Zantetsuken slid out of its sheath with a clear ring and cut through the stone like butter. In a few swings, Goemon had a door-sized hole cut into the wall. He knelt in the clearing dust as an alarm rang out in the castle. Fujiko and Zenigata framed him in the doorway. 

Zenigata looked at the cut pieces of stone -- which were, undoubtedly, nowhere near six feet thick. “Hm.” He kicked a loose piece of stone. “It looked a lot thicker from the outside.” 

“Appearances can be deceiving,” Goemon said as he stood up. There was a slow concentration to his movement that might have been deliberate or might have been compensating for his injury. Then he jerked back as bullet slammed into the wall beside his head. 

Zantetsuken flashed and a second bullet fell to the floor in two pieces as Goemon rushed inside. 

Fujiko and Zenigata shared a look, then rushed in after him, pulling guns out as they went. 

Jigen was pretty sure he knew where Jaina would wait for him. In the last room he'd been in when he was here. In the room he'd spent almost every minute of his down time in. In the room where'd he'd made her laugh. In the room where he'd smiled. Jigen paused outside the dark wood door and took a deep breath.

The last time he’d been in this room he’d made love. To Jaina. With Jaina. However that saying went. God, that had been such a long time ago. It had been the night before he left with her father. The last time he saw her before Saegan’s death. She’d looked so young and happy then. She’d smiled at him as he left that morning, nipped his ear with her teeth, promised him unspeakable pleasures when he returned. He’d kissed her and left like he always did -- without saying goodbye. Jigen hated goodbyes. Because goodbyes were formal. Goodbyes meant there was a chance you wouldn’t see that person again. And in a job rife with that possibility, Jigen avoided goodbyes like the plague. Because when you didn’t say goodbye, it was an unspoken promise -- you were coming back. 

Maybe he should’ve said goodbye that morning. Maybe he should’ve seen the signs. Maybe if he’d checked the car. 

Maybe, maybe, maybe. 

Jigen shook his head. 

Maybe wouldn’t change Jaina now. Maybe wouldn’t save Lupin. He was done with maybe. There was only here and now. Jaina and him. And whatever happened in this room, he wasn’t leaving until it was finished. For good. He reached out and grabbed the doorknob. Nothing happened. He took a deep breath and swung the door open. 

The room was dark on the other side. Somewhere inside Jigen heard a clock tick. He tensed, hand near his back, his other hand still on the door handle. Hunkered shapes of furniture crowded the edges of his vision, looking very much as he remembered them from years ago. The pool of light from the hallway stretched just far enough to let Jigen see a figure huddled against the far wall. A familiar figure -- tied up, bruised and battered, but alive -- 

“Lupin!” 


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I didn't forget about this story, I promise! But I had a major case of writer's block. I have the very end of the story planned out -- there were just a few scenes before it that gave me no end of trouble. This chapter has been put through the wringer, cut, copied, pasted, and revised a LOT and I think it's finally ready to become part of the story. Hope you all enjoy! And as always, if you want to let me know what you think, go for it ;)

“Quick! Get something to bar the door!” Pops yelled as he and Goemon leaned up against a door that lead into the castle entryway. They pressed their shoulders against the wood as they heard shouting from the other side.

Fujiko stood there for a second, catching her breath. Someone pounded on the door from the other side. Goemon grunted, sliding back a few inches on the polished tile floor as the door began to inch open. Fujiko’s eyes were locked on the bloody smears under Goemon’s sandals. Pops swore under his breath. He shoved himself up against the door with renewed vigor and slammed it shut. 

“Fujiko!” he yelled. “The door!” 

Fujiko snapped out of it enough to give Zenigata an annoyed glare and then she scanned the room. They’d come out into the castle entryway, right beside a grand staircase that spread up from the center of the room and branched out into hallways on the upper floor. The rest of the hall was grand and stuffy, filled with columns and old portraits and gold chandeliers. Although they’d managed to take out some of Jaina’s men along the way, there were still several pounding on the door now. She needed something heavy. Something big. Something that would weigh at least as much as Goemon and Pops combined. 

Goemon and Zenigata grunted as the door rattled again, pressing harder to keep it closed. 

“Fujiko!” Goemon shouted. “Now would be preferable!” 

“I know, I know!” Fujiko yelled as her eyes lit on a nearby decorative table with claw feet. It looked solid and heavy. Fujiko ran over and shoved against it. It didn’t budge. She checked the feet to make sure it wasn’t nailed to the floor. Nope. It was just that heavy. Fujiko turned around and pressed her back against the table. She shoved for all she was worth. The table only slid a few inches. 

“Help!” she called out. 

Suddenly Goemon was beside her, face a mask of determination as he grabbed one corner of the table and nodded at her. Fujiko pushed again. Between the two of them, they got the table pushed over to the door. Pops helped them flip it up on its side and shove it in place. 

Then they all stepped back and took a breath. The door rattled again, but the table held. For now. 

“We don’t have much time,” Zenigata said. “There’s bound to be other doors that lead in here.” 

Fujiko nodded distractedly. Goemon wasn’t at her side anymore. She found him leaned up against the nearest wall. His head was tilted back against the cool stone, mouth open as he caught his breath. It seemed to take more effort than usual. He put one hand in his kimono, the other holding Zantetsuken loosely by his side. There was a lot of blood on his clothes, but it was hard to tell if it was all his. He was hurting, although he was trying to hide it. If they didn’t find Jigen soon, they’d be down a fighter. 

Fujiko shivered. 

That was a terrifying thought. 

Goemon was the one who subjected himself to the pounding force of a waterfall for fun. The one who stood all night in a field in the snow for discipline. The one who never complained, never gave up and never laid down. 

But now he was likely to fall down before this was all over.

“You need to get moving.” Zenigata’s voice broke into Fujiko’s thoughts. He was inserting a fresh clip into his gun. 

“Me?” Fujiko looked a little surprised. 

“You and Goemon,” Pops nodded. 

“But we still haven’t found Jigen,” Fujiko protested.

“Higher up,” Goemon said.

“What?” 

“Jigen’s higher up.” 

“How do you know?” Fujiko demanded. 

“We just found the front door,” Goemon said, pointing down the length of the red carpet running the middle of the entryway. “We entered the castle on a lower floor. And we haven’t seen Jigen yet. So...” he gestured over his head with Zantetsuken. “Up.” 

Fujiko walked over to the bottom of the staircase and stared upwards, as if she might find Jigen’s familiar silhouette lounging at the top, but there was no one there. A gunshot startled her and she looked back over at the door they’d blocked to see a fresh bullet hole punched through the wood. Pops stood behind a nearby column, gun at the ready. 

“You better hurry,” he said. “There’s not much time.” 

Goemon nodded and dragged himself off the wall. He started up the stairs. 

“Wait,” Fujiko paused. “What about you, Pops?” 

“I’ll hold ‘em off here,” he said. “You’ll have your hands full enough with Jigen and Lupin.” 

“Are you sure?” Fujiko asked as another bullet punched through the door. Zenigata ducked back behind his column as the bullet whizzed harmlessly through the air. 

“I’m sure. You’re going to need someone at your back. Get going!” he motioned up the stairs with his free hand. 

“C’mon, Fujiko,” Goemon said from a couple stairs above her. 

Fujiko looked back up and nodded. This day could hardly get any weirder. “Right.” 

She and Goemon headed upstairs, leaving Pops in the entryway with the sound of gunshots and splintering wood. 

“You think he’s trying to be a hero or something?” Fujiko asked as they reached the second floor landing. 

“Who, Pops?” Goemon didn’t look back at her, instead he studied the carpet. He seemed to reach a decision and headed off to the left. “That’s just who he is,” Goemon shrugged. “It wouldn't occur to him to do anything else. That’s his way.” 

His way. Just like Jigen had his way. Or she had hers. 

“But aren’t we, like, his enemies?” Fujiko asked. 

Goemon smiled. “Sometimes, I like to think we’re almost associates.” 

There was something wrong. Jigen felt it in every fiber of his being. For a moment, he was frozen in place, every sense on alert, eyes darting around the room. His survival instincts screamed at him to get out of the doorway, out of the backlight. He was an easy target and he knew it. 

But he didn’t move. 

Because his eyes were locked on the pale, crumpled figure across the room. 

Lupin slumped against the wall, head on his chest, limbs loose. His coat and tie were gone, his clothes disheveled. His right shoulder protruded from the joint at an odd angle. His hands were bound behind his back and there were bruises on his face and blood on his clothes, most of it obviously his. 

But the silver device strapped to Lupin’s chest sent Jigen’s stomach plummeting to his shoes. A small box, a few wires, and a red flashing countdown, like an alarm clock. The numbers read _10:25_ , but they were counting down by the second -- a bomb. Jigen suddenly felt as if the floor dropped out from under him and he steadied himself on the doorframe. His blood rushed in his ears unnaturally loud, breath rasping in his throat. 

_No._

_Anything but this._

Images leapt unbidden to his mind. A burning car. Jaina’s father. Blood. Pain, sharp and hot, beating every part of his body like a well-placed fist. Lying in the road flitting in and out of consciousness thinking Saegan was too still. And too small. It was only later that Jigen realized he’d been staring at just a part of Seagan under the car. The man had literally been blown to pieces. 

Jigen swallowed hard and tasted bile. The images faded.

Lupin was whole. 

Lupin was alive. 

He could see the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

Jigen took a deep breath and the world steadied. This wasn’t over yet. He was here. And he could help. Jigen crossed the room in a few quick strides and knelt by Lupin’s side. No one stopped him. There were no bullets. No explosions. Nothing. His eyes scanned the dark room as he reached out and shook Lupin’s left shoulder gently. 

“Lupin,” he called, barely above a whisper. “Lupin!” 

Lupin groaned softly, eyes flickering under closed lids, but he didn’t wake up. His head lolled from side to side as Jigen shook him. 

“Wake up, dammit!” Jigen hissed. 

Lupin moved slightly, as if he were trying to raise his head. 

Jigen sighed and examined the bomb on Lupin’s chest.  _ 8:46 _ . Almost two minutes had gone by already. Two minutes of useless standing and staring. Jigen followed the wires on the bomb. They criss-crossed the device and were different colors, although it was hard to distinguish them in the half-light this far back in the room. Knowing Jaina, there’d be a way to defuse the bomb without harming Lupin. Jaina enjoyed games. She liked playing with her prey -- offering solutions and watching her target run themselves into the ground trying to find them. There would be way out. It would just be hard to find. And Jigen was sure Jaina would be guarding it.

Jigen growled in frustration. He wasn’t a bomb expert. Lupin was the mechanical whiz. Sure, Jigen knew about guns and cars. But this was neither. Bombs and gadgets and explosives were Lupin’s realm and the bastard was taking a freakin’ nap.

“Lupin!” Jigen threw caution to the wind and yelled in Lupin’s ear. 

Lupin groaned again, but this time his eyes opened. He focused on Jigen with some trouble. “Jigen?” He blinked a couple of times, like he didn’t believe what he was seeing.

“Yeah, it’s me.” 

“S’bout time,” Lupin muttered, words heavy, like it took some effort to form them. 

“You ok?” Jigen asked. 

Lupin nodded slowly. “Yeah. Jus’...tired,” he said. “Your ex is a bi--WHAT IS THAT?” Lupin yelped as he looked down at himself, seeming to notice the bomb for the first time.

Jigen couldn’t stop his smirk despite the circumstances. “That’s a bomb,” he said, one eyebrow raised. 

Lupin gulped. “Of course it is.” 

Jigen tried not to watch the numbers flickering on the screen, but he noticed them anyway. _7:04._

“We gotta get this off,” Lupin said, eyes flicking around the room, as if he might find an answer to their current predicament nearby. Jigen wasn’t sure what Lupin was looking for, but whatever he saw made his eyes go wide and it was right behind Jigen.

Jigen tensed and ducked as something heavy whipped by overhead, taking his hat and missing his head by inches.

Jigen whirled and jumped to his feet, hand automatically going for his gun but he didn’t draw. He was face to face with the barrel of his own magnum, so close he nearly went cross-eyed looking at it. Grinning behind the magnum was none other than Jaina. Jigen paused. Jaina would expect him to draw. She’d expect him to shoot. And this close she’d shoot first, no doubt about it. Slowly, Jigen held his hands out to his sides, palms out, fingers spread. She held up her mangled right hand, Jigen’s hat dangling from her two remaining fingers like an unspoken taunt.

“How sweet,” Jaina smiled. “The dashing knight has come to save his prince.” 

Jigen scowled. “I hardly think I’d classify Lupin as a prince,” he said. 

“Yeah? Well you’re not much of a knight, either, pal,” Lupin snapped behind him. He heard Lupin grunt and some movement. 

“Shut up!” Jaina commanded. “This is no time for jokes.” 

“Nice to see you too, Jaina,” Jigen said. He heard another grunt, almost a whimper, behind him. Lupin was probably trying to relocate his shoulder, the fool. And Jigen was going to have to buy him the time to do it. By distracting Jaina. He needed to keep her talking. 

“You drugged him, didn’t you?” Jigen suddenly asked. That would explain Lupin’s grogginess earlier -- and why he had no idea there was a bomb strapped to him.

Jaina nodded. “It’s not like he needed much help,” she said. “He was passed out when we came to set things up. The drugs were...insurance,” she said. “Besides, I figured dosing him was better than bonking him on the head in his current...condition.” She smiled, showing perfect white teeth in the gloom. 

“Gee, thanks,” Lupin muttered. 

The gun in Jaina’s hand wavered ever so slightly toward Lupin. Jigen moved subtly to keep the barrel pointed at him. 

“What are the rules?” Jigen asked warily. 

“Rules?” Jaina cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean?” 

Jigen sighed. “I know how much you like to play games. There’s a way to disarm that bomb, isn’t there?” 

“Jigen, why would I let you disarm it?” Jaina shook her head. 

“I didn’t say you were going to _let_ me. But I know you put a key in here somewhere.” 

Jaina’s smile turned to a grin. “You know me too well.” 

“I did. Once,” he admitted. “Now, what do you want? Me?” He snuck a glance at the bomb.  _ 5:34 _ . Dammit, they were running out of time. “Revenge?” Lupin’s mouth was set in a line of determination, sweat beading on his forehead. “Death?” Jigen quickly looked back at Jaina so that her focus would stay on him. “What?” 

Jaina’s expression hardened. “I want you to feel what I felt when my father died. I want you to feel powerless. I want you to lose someone close to you. To put it simply, I want you to suffer, Daisuke Jigen.”

Jigen felt a cold finger slip down his spine. It had been a long time since Jaina called him by his full name. She used to do it for fun, because she knew he hated it. Jigen liked the simplicity and anonymity of one name. Now, his full name was just another lie from pretty lips. An inane part of Jigen wanted to kiss her. Just one more time. He shook himself. 

“You think I haven’t?” Jigen asked, voice low, dangerous. 

“Killers rarely do,” Jaina sneered. 

“Is that all I am to you? A killer?” 

“You killed my father!” Jaina shouted. “What else would you be?” 

“A friend,” Jigen said, taking a cautious step forward. He held his hands out at his sides -- gentle, unthreatening, like he’d approach an injured dog. “Someone who gives a damn.” Without warning, Jigen lunged at Jaina, grabbing her left wrist with his right hand and twisting it up so that her gun pointed harmlessly at the ceiling. The gun went off as Jigen wrestled her for it and he felt dust rain down on his shoulders, but he didn’t spare a glance for the ceiling. He followed through with his left fist, aiming for Jaina’s face, but she got her right forearm up just in time to block it. A clumsy block, hasty -- he’d surprised her.

Jigen held her for a moment, the two locked face to face. “I _did not_ kill your father. I respected him. I loved you! _I_ _had no motive!_ ” he shouted. 

He saw the flash in Jaina’s eyes right before she head-butted him. Caught off-guard, Jigen reeled back. Jaina follow up with a knee to his stomach, winding him. Then she shoved him. He let go of her and staggered back, only to trip and sprawl across Lupin. He heard Lupin hiss in pain. There was a moment of panic where Jigen half-expected to get blown to kingdom come, but nothing happened. The bomb kept ticking. They were all still in one piece. 

Then he heard an unmistakable click -- the hammer being drawn back on his magnum. He scrambled into a better position to cover Lupin’s body with his own. 

From underneath him, he heard a whispered, “Two more minutes.” 

Jigen grunted. 

“Why did you run?” Jaina snarled. 

Jigen cocked his head. 

“That day my father died. If you were innocent, why did you run?!” 

“I didn’t want to die.” It was an open, honest answer. He looked Jaina straight in the face when he said it, without even the brim of his hat to obscure his expression. “You and I both know the coup would’ve killed me if they found me that day,” he said softly. 

Jaina’s hand wavered, just a bit. Just enough that Jigen caught the dip at the end of the barrel. 

“Get ready.” He felt more than heard Lupin’s words, an exhale against his shirt. He didn’t look down or nod. He just tapped Lupin’s leg twice -- their signal for yes. Ready for what? He had no idea. But he’d need to distract Jaina long enough for whatever it was Lupin was about to do. _Do the unexpected, Jigen._ The unexpected was stupid, dangerous. Everything that cautious, self-aware Jigen wouldn’t do. He launched himself at Jaina again. 

Instead of going for her wrists this time, Jigen ducked under the gun and tackled her, wrapping his arms around her torso and shoving her backwards. But this time she was slightly more prepared and she almost got the gun to bear on him before it went off right next to his ear. It left his ear ringing, the acrid smell of gunsmoke in his nostrils. He felt blood drip down the side of his face -- the bullet must’ve grazed him, but in the moment, he hardly felt it. He heard Lupin shout as the bullet pounded into the floor beside his foot. Jigen pressed his advantage and shoved Jaina backward. She slid back and they toppled onto the big four-poster bed behind her. 

Jigen grabbed Jaina’s left arm and twisted it at the elbow, wrenching the joint until she yelled and opened her fingers. He swatted the magnum off the bed, as far as he could get it at the moment. 

Behind them, he heard Lupin grunt, a strangled sort of noise that sounded like it would have been a scream under different circumstances. He resisted the urge to look behind him. Taking his eyes off Jaina would be a bad idea. “Lupin?” he called. 

“Fine,” Lupin panted, voice strained. “Everything’s fine.”

“What about that timer?” Jigen asked. 

“Uh..two something,” Lupin’s answer was hurried, rushed and drowned in another groan, but Jigen didn’t get a chance to clarify. Two what? Two minutes? Two seconds? Jaina writhed and squirmed under him and it was all he could do to hold her down. Although she wasn’t as tall as he was, she was strong. And she was angry. 

“Jaina,” Jigen began. 

She wrenched an arm free and chucked him under the chin with her elbow. Jigen’s head snapped back and he tasted blood. He’d bit his tongue. His eyes watered and his grip loosened for a moment. It was enough for Jaina to lurch to her feet, shoving Jigen back against the wall instead. She got her hands around his throat and squeezed. 

Jigen wrapped his hands around her wrists and pulled, gasping for breath. She didn’t let up. He kicked at her shins, but she still kept her fingers locked on his throat. He pounded his fists against her arms but she was relentless. Jigen coughed, gagging on a breath that wouldn’t come. 

“Lupin!” he tried to shout, but it was a wheeze. 

There was a light of madness in Jaina’s eyes. He could see pain reflected there, and anger, and something else -- something beneath the harsh exterior. Something that looked an awful lot like fear. 

Jigen’s struggles were getting weaker. His vision darkened at the edges. God, this was not how he planned to go. He always figured it’d be at the hands of someone with a bent for revenge. But not Jaina. Not the girl he’d loved. Not the girl he spent hours training, the girl he’d laughed with, the girl he’d truly felt at home with. Jigen’s head fell back against the wall behind him. He tried to grab at Jaina’s hands again, but his fingers felt clumsy, detached, like they belonged to someone else. 

The room slipped out of focus. Jigen felt something wet slide down his face. Was he...crying? Or was it just blood? He didn’t know. And didn’t much care. All he wanted to do was breathe. All he wanted was for the terrible pressure on his throat to -- 

“Oh crap!” Lupin’s shout broke through the haze of Jigen’s mind at the same time that a navy blue blur crashed into Jaina, bodily separating her from Jigen. He felt her nails tear at his throat as she was pulled off of him. Her hands trailed down his jacket, his shirt, grabbing at him as she tried to get a better hold. Something tugged at his belt and then Jaina was gone, toppling to the floor under Lupin’s awkward tackle. Jigen doubled up, sucking in greedy lungfuls of air. His chest and throat burned and he felt like he might throw up. 

And then someone was grabbing him -- by the shirt collar this time -- tugging him down, toward the floor. Jigen didn’t have the strength to resist. 

“C’mon buddy, get down!” That was Lupin’s voice in his ear and then Jigen was roughly shoved onto the floor and then he was under the bed and Lupin was right beside him. Something cold was pressed into his right hand and he realized belatedly that it was his magnum. Lupin curled around him, covering their heads with his arms. 

Cold dread settled in Jigen’s stomach. “Lupin, what --” 

And that’s when the room exploded. 


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So...I thought this was probably going to be the last chapter. But, turns out, it's not...yet. And I may or may not have added just a little bit of another cliffhanger...enjoy!

Goemon stopped by the corner of two halls and took a deep breath. He felt the twinge in his side that told him he’d pulled some of his stitches out -- not to mention the blood that stained his kimono. He felt light-headed and a little fuzzy, but he’d had worse. He was still good for a fight. For now.

He got a better grip on Zentetsuken. If they didn’t find Jigen soon though, he was going to have to leave this up to Fujiko. And that wasn’t an option. Not that he didn’t trust Fujiko, but...he didn’t trust Fujiko. Goemon steeled himself and looked around the corner. He jerked back so fast Fujiko ran into his back. 

“What the--” She only got two words out before he got his hand over her mouth. He frowned. He should’ve been faster. But he didn’t have time to focus on that as Fujiko glared at him over his fingers. For once, Goemon forgot to blush. He shook his head and let go, then gestured for Fujiko to look around the corner. 

Fujiko visibly swallowed her retort and pulled a small mirror out of her pocket. She held it at the edge of the hall so she could see around the corner without exposing herself. Goemon watched the mirror over her shoulder. 

As he’d glimpsed the first time, there were two men standing outside a door about halfway down the hall on the right. The door was open and the men were pressed up against the walls, as if hiding from whoever was inside. Backup. Or guards. 

Which meant they found Jaina. 

And Jigen too. 

Goemon closed his eyes and listened for a moment. If he concentrated, he could make out angry voices coming from the room, but nothing distinct. Then there was a gunshot. Neither of the men outside the room reacted. Seems like Jaina told them not to interfere. 

Beside him, Fujiko jumped. He reached out and grabbed her arm. 

“What the hell, Goemon!?” she hissed, trying to pull away. He held on tighter. “Didn’t you hear that? That was a gunshot, you idiot! Jigen could be in trouble.” 

Goemon opened his eyes. “Wait. Listen,” he said. 

Fujiko scowled at him, but she waited. 

From the open door came the sounds of a struggle, punctuated by a few shouts. 

“There are two people in there fighting,” Goemon said. “Jigen can’t be dead.”

“Or he  _ can  _ be dead and Lupin is fighting Jaina. Or  _ Lupin _ can be dead and Jigen’s fighting Jaina,” Fujiko pointed out. 

A jolt went through Goemon as if he’d been struck by lightning. Lupin. Imagining Lupin dead was like...imagining the sun didn’t set or the moon didn’t rise or fall didn’t follow summer. Lupin was a sure thing. A crazy thing. But a sure thing. As necessary as the seasons or the rains. And the real reason they were all here. And from what Goemon knew of Jaina, she was the type to shoot first and ask questions later. He didn’t waste a beat. He was around the corner and in the hall before Fujiko even got her last word out. 

Fujiko was right behind him, yelling something that he didn’t pay attention to.

The two men at the door turned in surprise to face this new threat and raised their guns.

Zantetsuken was a silver flash. 

Fujiko’s pistol barked twice over his shoulder. 

And then up suddenly wasn’t up anymore and Goemon found his face against the stone floor with the taste of blood on his tongue and ringing in his ears. 

Jigen sucked in a lungful of smoke that sent him into a racking coughing fit. His throat hurt and he couldn't get a proper breath through all this heat and fire --

Smoke.

Heat. 

Fire. 

He could smell and feel and hear things. So, he wasn’t dead, right? Unless...this was hell? But he could feel the cold stone floor underneath him, the weight of the bed looming over him. Surely hell didn't look like Jaina's bedroom? That'd be just his luck --

“Jigen?” a voice broke through the smoke beside him. A familiar voice. Lupin. Jigen breathed a sigh of relief. That was one two many coincidences for hell. They were still alive. “You...ok?” Lupin asked.

Another coughing fit took him before he managed a word, “Yeah.” 

“Good,” Lupin sounded short of breath. 

Then there was an elbow in Jigen’s ribcage as Lupin moved. “Ow,” Jigen grumbled. 

“Sorry. Can you move?” 

Jigen took a quick inventory of his appendages. All there. And all in working order. Besides a few new scratches and bruises, he checked out. “Yeah. You?” 

Lupin chuckled, but the sound was pained. “Sorta.”

Jigen swore under his breath. In all the chaos, he’d nearly forgotten Lupin’s injuries. 

“Let’s...get out from under the bed, yeah?” Lupin panted beside him. “It’s too hot down here.” 

“Hey, you’re the one who wanted to try something new,” Jigen growled as he shuffled toward the cooler side of the bed. 

“Turns out...having your shoulder dislocated for a while...makes your hand go numb…”

“Let me guess, that makes it harder to disarm bombs.” 

“Yeah,” Lupin said softly. 

Jigen stuck his head out from under the bed cautiously. After all, he had no idea where Jaina was. Or whether or not she was even still alive. Images encroached on his mind again. Blood and body parts -- except this time they weren’t Seagan’s. Jigen took a deep breath to clear his head and immediately regretted it. He inhaled a lungful of smoke and coughed. 

“You’d think smoking would prepare me for stuff like this,” he muttered. 

Behind him Lupin laughed. But he cut the sound off quick, descending into coughing interspersed with groans. “You’re killing me, Jigen,” he said when he got his breath back. There was an odd lilt in his tone that made Jigen decide not to crack more jokes until he got a chance to assess Lupin’s injuries. 

He didn’t see any sign of Jaina, so he slowly slid out from under the bed, magnum ready in his right hand. The room was worse for wear, but not as bad as Jigen expected. The elaborate desk that had been in the center of the room had been reduced to splintered pieces of wood lodged in the furniture, the fireplace mantel, even in between the stones in the walls. Small fires burned on the carpet and the curtains. Pieces of the desk smouldered and burned, filling the room with smoke. Two of the windows were blown out and some of the furniture had taken a beating, but the room itself largely survived Jaina’s bomb. All except the door, which had collapsed under a pile of rubble and the remains of a wardrobe that toppled sideways across the doorway. 

Large splinters of wood peppered the fallen wardrobe, sticking out of the furniture like knives. 

Jigen swallowed hard. No wonder Lupin shoved them both under the bed. If he hadn’t, they would’ve been fair game for the desk shrapnel. Some of the pieces were larger around than Jigen’s arm. Killing blows, for sure. 

He peered through the shifting smoke, which was already clearing through the broken windows. 

“Jaina?” he called softly. 

There was no answer. 

To his right, Lupin rolled out from under the bed and lay on the floor for a moment, gasping. 

And that’s when he saw her through the clearing smoke -- sitting against the wall, almost exactly where Lupin had been earlier, a shard of wood sticking out of her shoulder. 

Jigen brought his gun to bear on her before he even realized it. 

He swallowed hard. 

“Lupin?” 

“Huh?” 

“Stay there.” 

“What?” 

“Stay there.” 

Lupin was quiet. Jigen cut him glance out of the corner of his eye to make sure he’d listened. He was sitting up now, half-crouched as if he were going to stand, but he wasn’t moving. Instead he was watching Jigen carefully, as if he hadn’t made up his mind to do what Jigen said. Or he didn’t have the strength to stand on his own. Jigen wasn’t sure which. 

He looked back at Jaina and walked toward her. As he got closer, he could tell she was still breathing. But she was losing a lot of blood and he strongly suspected that her collarbone was shattered. 

Jigen stopped in front of her. Lying on the floor by her feet was his hat, miraculously untouched save for a few smoldering embers on the brim. He picked it up and slapped it against his leg to knock the embers off, then put it on. He pulled the brim over his eyes and knelt beside Jaina. 

She opened her eyes, focusing with some difficulty, and stared at him. 

He reached out a hand toward the shard of wood in her shoulder. 

“Don’t touch me!” she snarled, jerking away from him. She hissed in pain as she jostled her shoulder. 

“Don’t move,” Jigen said. 

“Or what? You’ll shoot me?” 

“Or you’ll make it worse for yourself,” he said gently. 

Jaina laughed, but it was dry, humorless. “Won’t matter much if you shoot me.” 

Jigen shook his head. Even after all she’d done, all the death -- he didn’t want to shoot her. Not like this. This would be out and out murder. If it were a proper duel, he wouldn’t bat an eye, but there was no honor in shooting Jaina like a dog. No, the only thing he wanted to do was take Lupin, walk away from all this mess, and never see Jaina again. He just wanted to be done. 

“You don’t want to do it, do you?” 

“No,” he said simply. Leaving her here without her revenge would be torture enough. She wanted him to kill her. And he would not play into her hand. 

He started to walk away.

“Why do you care so damn much, Jigen!?” Jaina called after him. He turned to see tears welling in her eyes 

“Dunno,” Jigen shrugged, absently rubbing a hand against his neck. He could already feel bruises from her attempt to strangle him. “But I do know one thing. Killing you won’t bring your father back. Killing you won’t change the past. What’s done is done, Jaina, and I think it’s time we say goodbye.” 

There were footsteps behind him, limping footsteps, and then Lupin was standing beside him. Damn fool didn’t listen after all. 

“Why won’t you do it, Jigen?!” Jaina shouted.

Jigen didn't answer. 

“Why won’t you shoot me?” She sounded desperate, broken. Jigen had never seen her like this before. She’d always been so strong, so decisive. So sure of what she wanted. And now...

Jigen sighed. She wanted him to hate her. Because if he hated her then it would justify everything she’d dedicated her life to for the past ten years. It would make her the hero of this tale. It would validate her. But Jigen just couldn’t bring himself to do it. Because it wasn’t her fault Seagan died. It wasn’t even her fault that she hated him. It’d been the coup that did it. Fate, if you will. But it was out of his hands. He’d made his peace with it years ago. It did no good to try and alter events you couldn’t control. Jigen learned long ago you just had to take the hand fate dealt you and do the best you could with what you got. No use trying to make a hand of aces when you were holding a bunch of twos and threes. No use trying to fake spades if you had hearts. Better to learn to roll with what you had. 

“It would be easier if I wanted you dead, wouldn’t it?” He finally asked. He pointed his magnum at her again and wrapped one finger around the trigger. “You know I’d do it quick.” 

Jaina bit her lip and looked away for just a fraction of a second. Then her eyes were locked on his again and they burned like the smouldering coals on the floor around them. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she said. 

“Would it make everything worth it? If I shot you?” 

“Just do it, Jigen,” she said. He could hear the unspoken plea in her words. 

“No,” he said. “I won’t.” Because he wasn’t giving in to what Jaina wanted. He wasn’t letting her get away from all her crimes so easily. She’d have to learn to live with them, just like everyone else. Just like he did. He tilted the gun away from her and held it out toward Lupin. 

Lupin looked at the gun for a long moment, then at Jigen, an eyebrow raised in puzzlement. 

“He might,” Jigen said. 

Lupin eyed the magnum for a long moment. Jigen could only guess at what Jaina had done to him while she had him in custody and he knew she’d planned on killing him. Lupin certainly had reason to hate her. Reason for revenge. Jigen knew he wouldn’t take it. Not like this, but it was only fair to offer. 

Lupin reached out, slow, cautious until his fingers were resting on the grip. Then, very softly, he said, “I already tried. Couldn’t do it.” He took his hand away and stuffed it in his pocket. 

Jigen nodded once and took his gun back. 

“Cowards!” Jaina shrieked. 

“No.” Jigen spoke quietly, but his words were strong. “You’re the coward for trying to hide from what you’ve become. I won’t kill you because I’m done playing your hand. This time, we’re playing by my rules. And it’s time for the game to end.’

“Goodbye, Jaina,” Jigen tilted his hat and turned away. 

Lupin was staring at Jaina with a mixed expression on his face. It was hard to read through the bruising, but Jigen almost thought it was pity. “C’mon, Lupin, time to go,” he said, putting a hand on Lupin’s shoulder. Lupin paused a moment longer, then he let Jigen spin him around.

Jigen heard the click behind them as soon as he turned his back. He recognized it instantly. And suddenly he remembered the tug at his belt as Lupin knocked Jaina off of him. And he knew. Jaina had Fujiko’s gun. 

He heard the crack of the gun firing and knew exactly where the bullet was headed. Without even thinking about it, Jigen spun, dropped to one knee, and pulled the trigger. 

His bullet found its mark before Lupin even had a chance to turn around. 

“Goemon! Goemon, get up. If you die on me, I’m stealing your sword and selling it to the highest bidder.”

Fujiko tried to sound stern, but the body of one of Jaina’s men lying face up, blank eyes staring at the ceiling with a wooden spike protruding from his chest was unnerving to say the least. Fujiko wasn’t quite sure what had happened, only that one moment they were all on their feet and the next, they’d been hit with a concussive blast. 

Fujiko had been out of the worst of it and had stumbled to her knees and covered her head as the wall to her right buckled and crumbled over the door to the room where Jigen and Jaina and Lupin were. 

Goemon had been forcibly thrown off his feet and against the far wall, where he lay on the floor, stunned. 

Jaina’s henchmen had been less lucky. Fujiko had already taken out one of them, but the second man had been speared by a chunk of wood before he’d even had a chance to react. Right before the wall crumbled and something heavy thudded into the door from the other side. 

Fujiko knelt on the floor beside Goemon and reached for his shoulder. 

He sat up before she touched him, an intense scowl on his face. “You will not,” he said vehemently. “I will haunt you.” 

Fujiko jerked her hand back. “I was kidding, Goemon,” she snapped, although she had the sneaking suspicion that the samurai was not. She stood up and held out a hand. Goemon pointedly did not take it, but it took him a few tries to get to his feet. 

“There is truth in jest,” Goemon said. 

Fujiko rolled her eyes. “Right. But we’ve got bigger problems.” She gestured to the collapsed door and the rubble in the hallway. “We can’t get in.” 

Goemon surveyed the pile. “I think we can shift it. If we weaken the pile, it should collapse on itself and let us through the door.”

Fujiko sighed. She hadn’t prepared for this. She eyed the rubble and the tendrils of smoke escaping through the cracks in the pile. She shivered. If it looked this bad on this side, what did the other side of the room look like? “Do you think they’re...you know...ok in there?” she asked. 

Goemon was silent for a minute. “I hope so,” he finally said. “We should hurry though. The Inspector can’t buy us forever.” Fujiko heard the unspoken words. Jigen and Lupin don’t have forever. 

Fujiko nodded and started to grab one of the rocks in the pile when they heard the gunshot. Gunshots. Two, one right after the other, so close, Fujiko almost thought she’d imagined the second one. 

“Jigen!”

“Lupin!” 

Fujiko wasn’t quite sure who’d shouted which name -- only that Goemon had a tortured expression on his face that she was pretty sure was mirrored on her own. 

There was no answer.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, now the holidays have jumped into the middle of my writing...but I've got just one more chapter after this one, I think, to wrap all this up. Hopefully before Christmas ;) This chapter ended up split into multiple perspectives, which wasn't exactly what I originally planned, but it just seemed to fit better for what I wanted to describe.

Lupin realized several things all at once.

Something hot and sharp ripped through his sleeve, grazing his arm. A trickle of blood stained the navy material purple. 

Jigen knelt in front of him like some bloody knight, hands on his smoking gun. He was breathing hard -- harder than he should’ve been. His shoulders were...shaking? 

Lupin’s heart beat a heavy rhythm in his chest, fast, almost frightened. He hadn’t felt like this in a long time. 

He took a deep breath to steady himself and reached towards Jigen. That’s when his eyes strayed to Jaina’s face and he froze. Her eyes were open, just like her mouth. An expression of pure shock and disbelief. And between those pretty blue eyes, a bullet. A single trail of blood slid down her nose. 

Lupin swallowed hard. 

Somewhere far, far away, someone called his name. 

The world narrowed and faded. Fire tinged the edges of his vision and smoke stained his lungs. 

Lupin felt the sudden, overwhelming urge to just. Sit. Down. 

He must’ve made a noise because Jigen turned around at the exact moment Lupin’s knees gave out and caught him, lowering him until he sat on the floor. 

It took Lupin a moment to realize Jigen was talking to him. Saying his name, a worried expression on his face. 

“Lupin. Lupin, are you ok?” the sounds coming out of Jigen’s mouth finally formed words. 

_ Am I ok? _

_ Am...I…? _

Lupin waved Jigen away and sat cross-legged on the floor, despite the fact that it made his ankle throb. The pain served as an anchor, grounding him in this liquid reality. He felt...he wasn’t sure what he felt. 

He hurt, sure, but that was secondary to the look on Jigen’s face. In that split second before Jigen fully turned around, Lupin saw an expression he’d never seen on Jigen’s face before. It was something haunted, something hurt. Something that looked an awful lot like a dog with its tail between its legs. But not in the moody way Jigen inflicted on himself. This was different. This was torture.

Lupin closed his eyes and replayed the last few seconds in his head. 

Although it all happened too fast, Lupin could piece it together.

Jaina had gotten hold of a gun. Or maybe she’d had it this whole time. Either way, she didn’t aim for Jigen. 

She aimed for him. 

And Jigen instinctively shot back, knowing exactly where her bullet had been headed. Lupin had seen him pull this same trick once before -- using the heavier weight of his bullet to throw a lighter bullet off course, while still hitting his mark. Only that time, the shot hadn’t been fatal. 

This time, he’d put a bullet between Jaina’s eyes to save Lupin.

Did he mean to do that? 

Or had his instincts taken over and given his shot a lethal edge? 

From the look of shock frozen on Jaina’s face, she didn’t believe that Jigen would shoot her. In fact, he said he wouldn’t. And when Jigen told you something, you believed him. Jigen was rock-steady, solid, dependable. He didn’t lie. Not even to his enemies. If Jigen didn’t want you to know something, he simply didn’t tell you. 

Which meant that when he shot Jaina, he’d gone back on his word. 

He broke it on purpose. 

He broke it for Lupin.

And if that ripped  _ Lupin _ up this bad, how in the world did Jigen feel right now? Jigen made the shot -- which meant that he hadn’t lost his abilities. He had his magnum back. In fact, Lupin could see it poking out of its usual place at Jigen’s belt. But he’d just been forced to shoot a woman who obviously still meant a lot to him, no matter what their past was. Lupin didn’t have all the pieces, but he had enough to know that anyone would be reeling from the decision Jigen just made. Even grumpy ex-hitmen with a distaste for women. 

Lupin opened his eyes and met Jigen’s concerned gaze. 

“Are  _ you _ ok?” he asked. 

Jigen ducked his head so that his entire face was hidden under his hat. “I’m fine.” 

Lupin frowned. He knew  _ I’m fine  _ was universal code for  _ don’t ask.  _ He took a breath to speak at the same moment there was a crash behind him and the rubble pile over the door collapsed. Bright light from the hallway spilled over Jigen’s shoulders, highlighting his eyes as he looked up sharply, hand going for his gun. 

Lupin stiffened. 

“Lupin! Jigen!” 

“Fujiko?” Lupin spun around as Fujiko crawled over the rubble and ran into the room. 

Goemon followed behind her, looking pale.

Jigen took his hand off his magnum and allowed himself a half-smile. 

Fujiko walked up, hands on her hips, her expression turning from worry to a scowl. “Well, you boys certainly made a me--” she broke off suddenly as her gaze fell on Jaina’s still form. “Oh. Jigen…” Lupin was surprised. Fujiko actually looked upset. “You --”

“Shot her,” Jigen finished before Fujiko could say it for him.

Goemon tilted his head, a silent question. Lupin wasn’t sure what it was, but Jigen must’ve understood it because he nodded. Goemon bowed his head.

Fujiko still looked a little shocked. “Are you -- ?” 

Jigen cut her off again. “What’s done is done,” he said sharply. “Now’s not the time to talk.” 

For once in her life, Fujiko agreed with Jigen and nodded silently. 

Jigen stood up and held a hand out toward Lupin. Lupin took it and let Jigen haul him to his feet. 

“Fujiko, help Goemon before he falls down,” Jigen said. “It’s time to go.” He spoke clear, steady, sure. His hands didn’t shake as he steadied Lupin. Fujiko didn’t argue as she gave Geomon her shoulder to lean on. Even Goemon didn’t protest and actually let Fujiko support him. 

Lupin stared at Jigen. Jigen was back in control, in charge. No, beyond that. This was Jigen as Lupin had only seen him a few times in his life. Jigen in all his predatory prowess. Jigen the killer. 

The man Jigen only let slip through his lazy facade every once in a while, when you really riled him. The man that no one, not even Arsene Lupin III, dared contradict. 

Even still, Lupin couldn’t stop a tired smile as the four of them clambered out of the room. 

Daisuke Jigen was back. 

“We left him right here,” Fujiko said, spreading her arms out to encompass the room.

“Yeah? Well he’s not ‘right here’ now.” Jigen crossed his arms. 

“That’s an awful lot of blood,” Lupin supplied from where he sat on the second-to-last stair in the entryway. 

Fujiko and Jigen both glared at him.

Lupin ducked his head. Beside him, Goemon sighed quietly. He sat cross-legged on the floor, hands inside his kimono, eyes closed, Zantetsuken leaning against his shoulder. Although he looked as stoic as ever, Fujiko had no doubt he felt as bad as Lupin. Maybe even worse. Although Lupin had a myriad of cuts and bruises, at least he appeared to still have most of his blood. Jigen had offered up his coat to staunch Goemon’s bleeding (a quick examination had revealed ripped stitches), but the samurai had lost enough blood to be unsteady on his feet, even if he wouldn’t admit it. Fujiko could tell by the fact that he’d actually allowed her to help him. That and Jigen probably would’ve killed him if he didn’t. 

In fact, Fujiko wasn’t quite sure what to do with this new Jigen. He was Jigen, that was obvious, but there was an edge to him that, quite frankly, scared her. And Fujiko prided herself on not being scared of much. But this Jigen was sharp and dangerous and  _ predatory _ in a way she wasn't used to. It was the same Jigen who'd confronted her at the train tracks.

“Lupin’s right, Fujiko, that’s a helluva lot of blood.” Jigen looked around the room with a critical eye.

“Look, I know, ok!” Fujiko yelled, hands clenched in fists by her side. She was being testy and she knew it, but she couldn’t help it. She was tired, she was worried about Lupin and Goemon and she was on edge -- and wasn’t about to admit any of it. “I can’t magic up Pops for you just because you want him here!” 

Jigen glowered at her. “Then where’d he go?” 

“For the third time, I don’t know! We left Zenigata right here.” Fujiko walked over to the column Zenigata sheltered behind and pointed at the floor, brows drawn down in anger. 

Jigen walked over and knelt by the column. “Looks like he holed up here for a while.” He picked up a spent bullet casing. There were several more scattered at his feet. “That’s a lot of ammo.” 

Fujiko shrugged. After all, who really knew what all Pops carried in that trench coat of his? “So he holed up here, shot up some mafia men, and then ran when it got too tough,” Fujiko huffed. 

“Ran?” Jigen tilted his head. 

That damn hat was still too low over his eyes for her to read his expression. She wanted to rip it right off his cocky head, but she also had no desire to get shot. Why did she have to go and try to be nice and buy the man a new hat? 

“Ran?” Jigen asked again when she didn’t respond. 

“Sure, why not?” Fujiko shrugged. She wasn’t going to humor Jigen. 

“Because it’s Pops Zenigata, dammit!” Jigen shouted. “And he doesn’t run. From anything. Ever.” 

“Then he chased them off somewhere.” 

From the staircase, Lupin chuckled, but he broke off, wincing and clutching at his side. 

Fujiko sighed. “Look. We really need to get out of here. Zenigata can take care of himself. Why is it so important that we find him anyway?” 

Jigen stood there for a moment, silent. In that way he did when he knew exactly what answer he was going to give you, but he wanted you to think about it long and hard before he gave it to you. 

“Because what if he’s dead, Fujiko?” 

Zenigata stopped the sleek black Hummer in front of the doors of the castle and hopped out, closing the door behind him. Nobody stopped him or even so much as looked sideways at him as he walked up to the front door. Mainly because there was nobody on the lawn, or on the steps, or even behind the columns on the front porch to look at him anyway. Zenigata didn’t know what had gone down in the castle since he led Jaina’s men on a merry chase outside, but whatever it was must have been serious, because Jaina’s men had scattered like dust after one of them got a call on his radio. 

And just when Zenigata had been about to lay his trap, too. 

Zenigata sighed. Well, you couldn’t catch them all. 

He’d come across the Hummer in an old carriage house turned garage and discovered the keys inside. He swiped it and drove back up the driveway to the castle. At the very least, Lupin would probably need a getaway vehicle and his car was too far away to be effective right now. 

No, not a getaway vehicle, Zenigata reminded himself. A makeshift cop car. After all, if Lupin’s plan worked, then Zenigata got to arrest him. Of course Lupin’s plan would work. His plans always worked. But there was still a worm of doubt nestled uncomfortably in Zenigata’s stomach. Should he have gone upstairs with Goemon and Fujiko after all? Was Lupin even still alive? Did Jigen make it out? 

Zenigata sighed. Too many questions. Not enough answers. No use dwelling on what he didn’t know. He’d find out soon enough. 

With his gun in one hand, he reached out with the other and carefully pushed open the castle door. It swung easily and he slipped inside without giving himself away. Zenigata paused for a moment in the doorway and breathed a sigh of relief.

Lupin was alive and sitting on the bottom of the staircase at the other end of the entryway. Goemon sat beside him, a tight frown on his face, but that wasn’t unusual for the samurai. 

Jigen and Fujiko were at each other’s throats on one side of the staircase, yelling and gesturing. So far, no one noticed him. Jigen and Fujiko had their backs turned to him and Goemon had his eyes closed. Only Lupin was facing him, but his head was down. Zenigata started down the carpet as Jigen and Fujiko’s voices echoed and carried off the high ceiling. 

“Because it’s Pops Zenigata, dammit!” That was Jigen. “And he doesn’t run. From anything. Ever.” 

Zenigata smiled to himself. He  _ had _ always been known for his tenacity. About time someone recognized it. Even if it was technically his enemy. 

“Then he chased them off somewhere,” Fujiko huffed. “Look. We really need to get out of here,” she insisted. “Zenigata can take care of himself. Why is it so important that we find him anyway?”

Oh, now that hurt. Not that he should expect more from Fujiko who was infamous for cutting and running when the going got tough. But that was a low blow. He shook his head. He shouldn’t care what she thought of him. She wasn’t his chief target.

Just then, Lupin looked up and saw Zenigata. Zenigata stopped, knees bent, bouncing to the balls of his feet, ready to run, or fire, or throw his handcuffs, ready for -- Lupin to just sit there? Lupin gave Zenigata a tired smile, but he didn’t say anything. No yelling. No fancy tricks. In fact, he looked...resigned. Maybe he was thinking about his promise. Zenigata twirled the handcuffs around one finger. Lupin nodded slightly. 

Zenigata realized there’d been a pause in Jigen and Fujiko’s conversation. He glanced back at the two of them at the same moment Jigen demanded, “...what if he’s dead, Fujiko?” 

Zenigata couldn’t help himself. 

He laughed. 

Jigen visibly jumped and whirled around, hand going for his gun, before he just as visibly stopped himself, a scowl on his face. 

“Happy to see me?” Zenigata asked, handcuffs describing a lazy arc around his finger. 

“Jigen here seemed to think you might be dead,” Fujiko said, a smile on her face. “He was just about to organize a search party and everything.” 

Jigen tipped his head so his hat covered more of his face and crossed his arms. 

“At least one of you cared enough to find out if I took a bullet for you,” Zenigata said, looking straight at Fujiko. 

She turned red and looked away. 

“So, now what?” Jigen sighed. 

“What do you mean?” Zenigata asked. 

“Now you try to arrest us? Now we shoot it out? What?” His hand was on his magnum, relaxed, casual, but Zenigata knew he could draw it in less than a second. 

“Well, actually,” Zenigata pocketed his gun and rubbed the back of his neck. “I thought you all might like a ride out of here.” 

On the stairs, Lupin tilted his head curiously. Jigen scowled. Goemon cracked open an eye. 

“In the back of a cop car?” Jigen asked. 

Zenigata coughed. “Um, not exactly,” he mumbled. 

“You mean you’re not arresting us?” Lupin asked, incredulous. 

“I, uh, well, I’m not really here in any official capacity right now,” Zenigata said. “ICPO...doesn’t exactly know where I am. If I make an arrest now, there’d be...paperwork, explanations...” he trailed off. He’d already have paperwork and explanations aplenty, especially after the disappearing act he’d pulled at the train. Best not to add more to the mountain of accusations his superiors had leveled at him over the years. Not to mention the fact that if he tossed Lupin in jail now, there was a very real danger his injuries might not get treated. Besides, there was no sport in an arrest like this -- just walking up and slapping handcuffs on Lupin. Zenigata would never admit it, of course, but he wanted Lupin’s arrest to be public. He wanted people to know it when he caught his lifelong nemesis. 

Jigen laughed out loud. “Good ol’ Pops, always a stickler for the rules. Let me guess, you went and got the car for us, too?” 

“No,” Zenigata stood up a little straighter. “Let’s say I _ requisitioned  _ a car in the course of duty.”

Lupin had the broadest grin on his face as Jigen helped him to his feet. “See, I told you we’d make a thief out of you, Pops!” 

By the time they finally got everyone settled in the car, there was more blood on the seats than Zenigata thought healthy. Especially considering the pallor in Lupin and Goemon’s faces. But Jigen and Fujiko just bundled the two into the car, using Jigen’s jacket and tie as makeshift bandages like they’d done all this before. And they probably had, Zenigata reflected. More times than he’d care to count. 

Finally, with Fujiko, Lupin, and Goemon in the backseat and Jigen riding shotgun, Zenigata pulled away from the castle. Everyone was quiet as they followed the long winding drive out into the countryside. Too quiet. 

Zenigata hadn’t realized it before, but there was an air of tension between the four of them, mostly radiating from Jigen. He didn’t know exactly what happened in the castle, but from the lack of goons or Jaina chasing them, he thought he had a pretty good idea. He shot a glance over at Jigen. He had his hat drawn down over his eyes, sitting hunched in the passenger seat. He shifted, sifting through his pockets until he found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. 

“You mind?” he asked. 

Zenigata shook his head. “Go ahead.” 

Jigen lit one of the cigarettes and cracked his window, letting the smoke roll out into the early evening sky. 

They drove for a while in silence again. “You...uh…?” Zenigata wasn’t quite sure where to start. 

Jigen made the decision for him. “Don’t ask. Wouldn't tell you even if you did.” 

“Oh. Right.” 

Jigen nodded, as if it were final, and put his feet up on the dash. 

A flicker of movement in the rearview caught Zenigata’s eye. Fujiko suddenly sat up straight beside Lupin. “Jigen?” 

After a moment, he grunted. “What?” 

“Where’s my pistol?” 

“Gone.” He flicked the ashes of his cigarette out the window. 

“What do you mean, gone?” 

“Just what I mean. Gone.” 

“I didn’t give it to you to lose it!”

“It’s not lost. It’s gone.” 

“That doesn’t make any--” 

“I’ll get you a new one, Fujiko.” 

“But --” 

“You don’t want it back,” he interrupted. He lifted his hat just enough to meet Fujiko’s eye in the rearview mirror. “Trust me.” And then his hat was back over his eyes and just like that, the conversation was over. 

Zenigata kept his eyes on the road and drove. 


	16. Chapter Sixteen: Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we've come to Chapter Sixteen (posted on the 16th XD) and, coincidentally, the end of this Lupin adventure. Thanks to all who read and commented on it. It's been a wild and crazy ride and one I've thoroughly enjoyed. Lupin and the gang will likely return for some more shenanigans later (probably to include some Dad!Zenigata for those who have asked). And I even got this one up before Christmas ;) Cheers!

A few weeks later, Lupin stood next to Jigen in a graveyard. Goemon was somewhere nearby “taking a walk” but Lupin knew it was just an excuse to give him space with a stony, silent Jigen. Lupin sighed. Life after their last adventure still hadn’t returned to normal. Fujiko was gone again, somewhere even Lupin hadn’t sussed out yet. They’d have to abandon the hideout, although so far Zenigata hadn’t made a move on it. He still had some fading cuts and bruises and a hitch in his side that told him he wasn't quite at 100%. And Jigen hadn’t talked about what happened that day. Not so much as a word about Jaina.

Until today. Until he insisted they visit a graveyard. And Lupin and Goemon insisted on accompanying him. 

Lupin looked down at the gravestone between them. The gravestone with Jaina’s name on it. Jaina wasn’t buried here, of course, just like how her father wasn’t buried under the tombstone beside it that read Saegan Sark. Besides Jigen, Lupin, and Goemon, no one else in the world probably knew these tombstones existed. But it was obvious by the wear and tear on the granite that Seagan’s stone had been here for a while. Lupin felt something hitch in his chest. Jigen obviously had a lot of respect for the man. He didn’t take the time to memorialize just anybody. 

Like most hitmen Lupin met, Jigen danced a strange tango with death. It was wound intricately into his life in a way most people never thought about it, and yet, Jigen still had scruples, morals, rituals, what-have-you. Little habits that kept him sane in a line of work fit only for thugs and demons. 

Of which, Jigen was neither and sometimes both. 

Just like every person Lupin had ever met. Sometimes you had to separate your heart and your body to live in this world. And sometimes you had to play the demon to survive. Especially in their line of work. Lupin donned personalities like he donned masks and sometimes, late at night, he wondered which one was the real him. 

But Jigen? With Jigen, you always knew he was Jigen. Even when he was playing a role. Because there was something genuine about Jigen that Lupin rarely encountered in his line of work. It was what made Jigen such a good wingman. What made Lupin sure he could always count on him. 

Lupin watched as Jigen put a single red rose on Jaina’s gravestone. On Saegan’s, there was a single bullet. A hitman’s last tribute to his employer. 

Jigen stood up and put his hands in his pockets, staring at the gravestones for a while. Lupin stood beside him quietly. Jigen lit a cigarette. 

Lupin leaned back on his heels and looked up at the sky. After a few minutes, he spoke. “It’s rough, isn’t it?” he asked. 

“Hm?” Jigen grunted.

Lupin looked back down at him. “Losing her.” He gestured at the gravestone. “It’s rough.” 

Jigen inhaled and blew a cloud of smoke before answering. “It happens.” 

“I’m serious, man,” Lupin protested.

Jigen tilted his head so that he could meet Lupin’s gaze under his hat. “She was gone before I shot her. The Jaina I knew. She was gone.”

“Still doesn’t make it easy, does it?” 

“Nothing in the world ever does,” Jigen said, but that hat was over his eyes again, cigarette smoke wafting around the band. 

“Do you regret it?” Lupin asked. It was the question that had been keeping him up at night for the last few weeks. Not all the color on his face was from fading bruises, although he was sure they helped disguise the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t been sleeping well since the botched rescue. He hadn’t meant for anyone to die. And yet, they had. It’s not like he hadn’t seen death before. Or even caused it himself. But Jaina’s death haunted him like a bad dream, returning when he least expected it. He might not have pulled the trigger, but it was his fault she died. If he didn’t try to execute an elaborate scheme to get Jigen back, none of this would have happened. Maybe Jaina would never have found them. Maybe Jigen would never have had to face her. Maybe they would have all just played at life in different corner of the world and never intersected each other’s paths. 

“No.” Jigen interrupted his thoughts.

“No?” 

Jigen tilted his head again and raised an eyebrow. “No.” 

Lupin looked away first. 

“Why?” Jigen asked. “You feeling guilty for my sins? I pulled the trigger.” 

“I know. It’s just...I can’t help thinking that --” 

“I wouldn’t have done it if you weren’t there?” 

Lupin stuffed his hands in his pockets. “Well, yeah.” 

“It would have been the same without you, you know.” 

Lupin looked back at Jigen. 

“She would’ve tried to shoot me if you weren’t there.”

“And you would still shoot back?” 

Jigen snorted. “I’m not that self-sacrificing.” 

“But you loved her,” Lupin protested. 

“I did. Once. And maybe I owed her some loyalty for that at one point in time. But I find my loyalties tied to a different source these days.” 

Lupin felt a funny flutter in his stomach. Like a weight that had been tying him down had just been released. “Yeah?” 

Jigen let his hat settle over his eyes again. “Yeah.” 

Lupin opened his mouth to speak, but Jigen beat him to it. 

“It it’s not obvious by now, I’m not saying it,” he said. 

Lupin grinned. 

“But I found other people in this life that are a lot more important than an old flame. And a lot less jealous.” 

“Yup, Goemon never gets jealous,” Lupin agreed. 

Jigen punched him in the arm. “You idiot.” 

Lupin laughed. 

“Lupin! Jigen!” 

They looked up to see Goemon standing at the top of the path into the graveyard. “We’ve got company!” 

He pointed out towards the main road. 

A second later Lupin caught the sound of sirens. “Oh, crap. It’s Pops!” 

“Here? Now?” Jigen asked. “What did we do this time?” 

Lupin shrugged. “I dunno,” he answered a little too quickly. “Let’s go!” 

They ran up the path and joined Goemon as he headed for the car. The three of them got about halfway there before a cop car with blazing lights swerved into the entryway of the graveyard with Zenigata hanging out the front window, waving a bullhorn. “Lupin!” he shouted, his voice magnified. “You’re under arrest!” 

“You trying to wake the dead, Pops?” Lupin shouted back. 

Zenigata scowled and motioned with his arm for the other police cars behind him to file in. They formed a line out the cemetery gate. 

“Very funny, Lupin, but you haven’t forgotten your promise, now, have you?” 

“Promise? What promise?” Jigen demanded as they reached the yellow roadster and vaulted its sides, landing in their respective seats -- Lupin at the wheel, Jigen shotgun, and Goemon in the back. 

“I...uh, don’t know what he’s talking abo--”

“That’s what Zenigata asked you about that day at his office, isn’t it?” Goemon interrupted. 

Lupin started the car and floored it, spinning dirt and grass out from under the wheels as he took off between the gravestones. 

“You talked to Zenigata in his office?!” Jigen demanded. 

“He agreed to help in return for your arrest, didn’t he?” Goemon needled from the backseat. 

“Maybe, I mean, that’s a logical guess, yes,” Lupin chattered as he spun the wheel wildly to avoid upcoming headstones. Zenigata was madly directing his officers to go around the gravestones and back out to the main road, to cut Lupin off. 

“Yes?!” Jigen and Goemon both exclaimed at once. 

“Look, what else was I supposed to do?” 

Lupin winced as the fender scraped a stone cross. 

“Watch it, buddy!” Jigen yelped. “I don’t really wanna get chased by Zenigata and a thousand vengeful ghosts.” 

“Too late for that,” Goemon muttered, looking with dismay at the tire tracks they were gouging in the grass between the stones. 

“What do you want me to do?” Lupin demanded. “Get caught?” 

“Well, apparently that’s what you promised Pops,” Jigen grumbled, holding onto his hat as they bumped over something he didn’t want to think too hard about. 

“I never promised that!” Lupin shouted over the wind. 

He looked down at the road, running parallel to their current course. The cops were still behind them. He looked ahead. The cemetery fence was rapidly approaching. 

Jigen caught on and grabbed the dash. 

“Oh, no. Lupin, you’re crazy!” 

“But you love it!” Lupin responded as he gunned it and the roadster crashed through the wooden fence in an explosion of wood and splinters. Lupin raced through the field on the other side and skidded back down to the road a full two car lengths ahead of the police. 

In the backseat, Goemon grimaced, muttering a prayer to every god and ancestor he could think of not to kill them for desecrating a graveyard like that. 

Lupin laughed as they raced away, Pops on their trail, sirens blaring. 

“Why’d you make a promise like that anyway?” Jigen demanded as they sped down the road. 

“Like what?” Lupin asked innocently. 

“Like letting Pops catch you?! What were you thinking?” 

“I never promised I’d let Pops _catch_ me,” Lupin said, fighting a grin that threatened to tug at the corners of his mouth. “I promised Pops he could _arrest_ me after this adventure. I never said anything about him catching me.” 

Jigen threw back his head and laughed. “You bastard. You really do think of everything, don’t you?” 

“From the beginning,” Lupin smirked. 

“Not from the beginning,” Goemon said from the backseat where he now sat as calmly as if they were on a roadtrip. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lupin yelped, glaring at him in the rearview. 

“You didn’t think through Exo,” he said. 

“Yeah, well, how was I supposed to know that one would go as sideways as it did? I mean, so we got a little hurt, but so what? In the end, it was a good thing, right?” Lupin asked.

“A good thing?” Jigen demanded. “A good thing? I got stabbed! When is getting stabbed ever a good thing, you idiot?” 

“Well, if you didn’t get stabbed, I wouldn’t have been dangling off the ladder trying to make sure you were still alive and I would’ve been shot in the chest instead.” 

Jigen grunted and slouched down in his seat. “When you put it that way, I almost want to get stabbed more often.” 

Lupin gave him a giant grin. 

Jigen scowled and stared straight ahead so that Lupin wouldn’t see his smile. “I said _almost,_ ” he muttered as he crossed his arms. “Don’t push your luck.” 

Lupin laughed as the yellow roadster sped off down the road, leaving Zenigata and the cops in a trail of dust.


End file.
